How to make John love me
by IAmTheMedusa
Summary: Sherlock wants to be loved by John. He is just a little too impatient...  Sherlock/John - M rated - Slash - Don't own obviously...
1. Jealousy

All right here comes the new story I promised.

First of all, I'm sorry for those who wait for the new chapter of Swimming in blood, I have trouble dealing with this one...I don't agree with myself...and it takes longer than it should...

But it will come soon.

That's a promise.

About the new story, I'm sure you notice that the title has no interrogation point at it's end (I'm sure you understand what it means.)

Shorter chapters this time but more chapters (you can say it's the same but it isn't since it changes the rhythm which is good sometimes.)

Well, as usual, thank you for reading and, please, review.

**1 - Jealousy**

_He is out. He is out again. Which one is it? Nancy? Cathy? Penelope? Don't know, don't care, they're all commutable, forgettable. So why losing time with these dumb heads?_

_What does he want?_

_Why?_

_Is it not enough that I ask him to help me with my work, not that he is such a good detective but he is skilled when it comes to socialize with people, and he is a good doctor, anyway he should feel lucky to have me. _

_What is he searching outside?_

Sherlock threw a book across the room.

That was the exact moment John chose to open the door and the book crashed on the wall close to his head.

"Sherlock..." He said eyes wide opened "What are you doing? Are you throwing books at me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I was throwing a book at the wall" Sherlock almost screamed.

"Of course, that makes sense, why am I asking?"

"You're back early." The detective said in an accusative tone.

"Well, yes, Christina has to get up early tomorrow." John sighed

"Oh, Christina!"

John frowned, Sherlock was quite aggressive and he didn't like it.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"What?" The brown man stood up sharply.

"You're acting like I've done something offensive to you, so what is it?"

Sherlock stood there, right in the middle of the room, staring at John. What was the right answer to that question? "I'm jealous!" Maybe not that one.

"You're what?" John folded his arms and frowned.

"Oh John don't play dumb , I said, I'm jealous. Jealous of the time you spend with all these females, all the things you do with them..."

"The things?"

"Jealous of the smiles you wear on you're face when you come back from you're rendez-vous, sometimes you even sing!" Yes, now he was yelling "That's intolerable John, unbearable, I just can't stand it anymore!"

"What do you mean jealous?" John wasn't sure to understand.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Sherlock took two long footsteps and stood right in front of John. He grabbed his waist and pulled him close. Without letting the blond haired man understand the situation he kissed him hard pushing him so his back hit the wall right where the book had crashed a minute ago. John tried to push him away but the tall man held him tighter one hand on his back, the other one tangled in the blond mass of hair tugging painfully. John pushed again, harder and this time Sherlock's body moved away a little. He managed to turn his head and broke off the kiss, or the attack, whatever that was.

"Bloody hell Sherlock! What the fuck was that?" Yes, he yelled too. He took a step back away from the brown haired man who looked, let's say, possessed, at that moment with his dark eyes, his red lips, his posture almost feral.

"I want you John!" Sherlock growled "I want to have you, possess you, be inside you. I want rough sex with you. You've been in my mind for too long now I want you around me. Now!"

"That's insane..." Sherlock was moving really slowly, eyes on his pray, and John expected another attack really soon. He was studying his escaping options. If Sherlock was half dangerous as he looked he would have to use violence to reach the door. That was absurd. "Sherlock you're out of your mind?"

"I knew you'd say something like that." Sherlock said still in alert "What's insane in this? That you can reach me like you do? That I'm completely turned on every time I see you? That I'm furious that you've never thought I could be a good match for you?" Sherlock made a pause here and John kept on watching the room from the corner of his eye to find a way to escape. "That you put all these conquests of yours under my nose..." the detective moved just a little and the blond haired man in front of him clenched his fists "and expect me to be okay with it."

"You are scary, right now, you know that?" John frowned "What do you want from me?"

"I just told you, I want you !"

"You can't have me. I don't want to give myself to you and I won't let you take me without my consent."

Sherlock's face froze suddenly.

"What? I'm not, I won't..." Sherlock took a step back suddenly aware of his aggressive posture "I'd never..."

"You won't what? You'd never what? Wasn't it what you just suggest by you're posture, the way you forced this kiss on me, the words you used..."

"I don't...I don't want you to fear me..."

"No you just want to fuck me hard, right here, right now."

"Yes I do"

"I don't!"

"John..."

"I'm going out." Sherlock moved closer again "Don't!"John said throwing his hands in front on him, his look was angry and Sherlock didn't dare to move or say anything. He looked at the blond haired man's back as he left the apartment and slammed the door behind him.

"You know what I think?" Harry said between two mouthful of beer "I think it must have been really sexy," John looked daggers at his sister "even if scary as hell, of course !" She took another sip of her beer, looking away. Silence fell for a moment. "No really," the short woman added "having someone telling you he wants you that much, kissing you like that, it's sexy...don't deny it."

"Firstly : it's not someone, it's Sherlock and, secondly, as sexy as you thing this is, I really don't share your point of view. That was brutal and it made me feel like a deer on the headlights, and you know I can't stand that."

"Yeah, I know. But do you find him attractive?"

"Well yes, I mean no...Harry, that's not the matter."

"Yes it is." daggers again.

"All right, he his really handsome, I can't deny it."

"So?"

"So what? I'm not attracted to him!" John frowned "I'm attracted to women!" He mumbled

"Yeah, so do I!" Harry smiled and John chuckled. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I thought I could sleep on your couch tonight"

"Of course you can." Harry looked at the golden beer in her glass "I can't help myself thinking Sherlock has been the most important thing in your life since you came back from Afghanistan. He his your roommate, you kinda work with him and he is your friend. John, you don't even use your cane anymore and you seem... happy."

"He might have a good influence on me, or may not. It doesn't make me want to fuck him."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe..."

"Surely, Harry, surely."

… … …

God how could Harry have such an uncomfortable couch John asked himself after spending half an hour turning from side to side to find the right place to sleep. He was half drunk and really tired but couldn't sleep. To be true the Sherlock episode was one reason he couldn't sleep. Well, it was the only reason he couldn't sleep, the couch was just a good excuse.

_What would happen tomorrow? He had to go back to 221B, it was his home but what would Sherlock do? What would Sherlock say? What would Sherlock look like? Oh John please, what are you expecting him to look like? He will look exactly the same. It's the vision you have of him that changed, not who he really is, or his black curly hair or his full mouth or his piercing blue grey eyes... not his handsomeness...Fuck, he his handsome, so what? God Harry what did you put in my mind? There are a lot of people I find handsome, I don't chase them to fuck them. Right, part of them are beauty queens or actors who belong in the fantasy realm but the other part is reachable. Sherlock is reachable, okay, I know that, now...but he is not my type. No, not my type. _

_I should sleep. I'm drunk. I'll think tomorrow, yes tomorrow..._

John finally fell asleep.


	2. The man on the floor

Hello,

As always: Thank You All!

**Miss Crookshanks :** Well, I do what I can! :p  
><strong>Boobunny60 :<strong> Sherlock is just a little boy who screams when he doesn't have what he wants. (Obviously he wants John :p) But he is going to work on being a good, boy to have it. Shall I say he is greedy? ;)  
><strong>Angel-Castiel <strong>and** Watergoddesskasey :** Thank you !  
><strong>thisisforyou :<strong> I'm working very hard to write those stories in a language that is not mine, sorry for the bad grammar and spelling. I've lost my beta, a good friend of mine who has no time to read my stories for the moment.

New chapter now!

**2 – The man on the floor**

"Wakey, wakey, Johnny boy!" Harry half yelled while entering her living room with a mug of black coffee in her hand "Time to let me sit on my couch!"

"Oh Harry how thoughtful you can be." John mumbled face on the pillow.

"Yeah I know, it will be the death of me, hurry up now, I left you hot water, at least I think I did, go to the shower and then go home."

"Are you expecting someone?"

"Yes and she's already on her way" Harry smiled.

"It's half past seven..."

"Yeah I know but morning quickies are the best."

"All right, shower then go, I don't want to hear more..." John rolled out of the bed.

Half an hour later he was walking on the street still not sure of what to do or where to go. Being a coward wouldn't help, going home without knowing what to say to his roommate wouldn't help either. He stopped to buy a large coffee to go and decided to walk his way home.

_Sherlock, yesterday you attacked me and..._

_Sherlock, if you ever do this again I..._

_Sherlock, whatever you may say I won't..._

_Sherlock, I'm attracted to women!_

_Sherlock, even if you're really handsome, I'm not attracted to you..._

_Sherlock I'm sorry but..._

"Sherlock?" John opened the sitting room's door and found the place empty. He was about to go up in his room to change his clothes when he saw a human shape on the rug in front of the couch. "Sherlock!" He shouted before striding across the room and kneeling next to the brown haired man "What happened, Sherlock?" He put his hand on the detective's cheek, he was breathing normally and wasn't bleeding "Sherlock? Sherlock wake up!" John took the detective's pulse, which was a little slow but okay. He looked around, no medicine and, thank God, no needle.

"Hmmm..." Sherlock moaned.

"Sherlock, it's okay. I'm here. What happened?"

"Dizzy..." The brown haired man mumbled.

"Can you sit?"

"No..."

"All right, help me please, I'm going to lift you to the couch."

Sherlock didn't help and let John do all the work. When he finally laid on his back on the sofa he lazily opened his eyes and watched John's face in silence.

"What happened?" The doctor asked.

"Forgot...to...eat" Sherlock said and John sighed.

"How long?"

"Four"

"Four days?"

"Yes"

"God Sherlock, how can you forget to eat? I'm going to heat you something, soup, and don't make a face!" John went to the kitchen, he found canned soup in the cupboard, put some on a mug and heat it in the microwave. He put two slices of bread in the toaster. Sherlock watched him come back with the toasts on a plate and the mug full of soup. John helped the detective siting up and gave him the mug.

"Drink, it's not too hot, I'm going to make tea, you're dehydrated too."

"No please, stay."

"It's okay, I'm just going to the kitchen."

John made tea for the both of them and came back to the siting room. He sat on a chair and sip his tea in silence watching Sherlock drink and eat.

"Did you sleep last night?"

"No"

"Okay, you finish your...breakfast, and you go to bed."

"Don't want."

"Yeah like you didn't want to eat and look at you. I'm a doctor, you do as I say, and I don't take '_no_' for an answer"

"All right...need a long sleep...I want to go in my bedroom, you help?"

"Sherlock..." John looked at the brown haired man trying to decipher if it was a trap of some sort but he looked so genuinely weak that he decided to help him go to his bedroom "Okay, do you feel better already?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Good," the doctor got up and came closer to the sofa "I'm going to put my arm around your waist, and help you stand. Is it okay for you?"

Sherlock nodded again.

John leaned closer to the brown haired man and slid his hand on his back until he reached his waist. He took hold of it and pulled the man to him. He tried not to think of the proximity of the man who told him he wanted rough sex with him just a few hours ago and tried to act like the doctor he was. Sherlock put his bare feet on the floor and looked at John to give him the signal he was ready to stand up. John pulled once more, harder this time and Sherlock got on his feet, he lost his balance and grabbed John's waist to steady himself. Their eyes met and suddenly John thought he's been really trapped but Sherlock let go of John's waist and took a step in the hall's direction. It took them several minutes to cross the hall but they managed to reach Sherlock's bedroom's door without damage. When he put his hand on the doorknob, John realised he's never been into Sherlock's room before. The detective didn't use it much since sleeping wasn't one of his favourite past time and he only took naps on the sofa from time to time. John imagined the place full of random objects, books and God knows what other things. John was right. Sherlock's room was a real mess and the bed hasn't been done (why? He never used it) but the sheets were clean (of course). John helped Sherlock sit then lie on the bed and tucked him up like a child.

"Thank you..." The baritone said.

"I'm going to put tea and water on your bedside table, please drink, and I'm going to see if there are cakes or sugary things in the kitchen, please eat too"

Sherlock looked at John as he came out of the room and sighed.

When John came back ten minutes later with a tray full of cup, glass and chocolate covered digestive cookies, Sherlock was asleep. John put noiselessly the tray on the bedside table and looked at the brown mass of curly hair spread on the pillow, the eyelids covering those strange blue grey eyes and the full mouth so feminine. Yes he was beautiful. John shook his head and went out of the room.

Sherlock never eat or sleep when he is on a case but he hasn't been called for more than a week now, he should at least have eaten if not have spent a long night sleep on the couch. Why did he fast like that?

John sat on the couch and turned on the TV but barely watched the morning show it was tuned on. He was worrying about Sherlock. After an hour during which he stayed perfectly still he decided to take a look at the brown haired man. Just a peak through his half open door, just to be sure he was all right.

Hand on the doorknob, John hesitated, what was he about to do and why was he about to do it. Was it just to satisfy his curiosity – about what? - or was it the doctor inside him who was speaking? Suddenly a noise made him stop hesitate, a moan, as if someone inside was in pain. John opened the door and rushed inside the room.

"Sherlock?"

The detective was curled in a foetal position, arms tightly crossed on his chest. He was still asleep his back to the door, he was shaking. He moaned soundly. John crossed the room and sat on the bed's edge and put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Sherlock are you all right?"

"Don't...please...don't go..." The man groaned in his sleep and John realised he was having a nightmare.

"Sherlock, wake up please." He said calmly.

"Don't go...John!" Suddenly the brown haired man opened his eyes wide and John felt his own body stiffen. Silence fell and for a moment nobody moved then John seemed to notice his hand was still on Sherlock's shoulder and he removed it slowly. The detective was staring at the opposite wall.

"Sorry, Sherlock, I...I didn't mean to wake you but..." John coughed "but you were having a bad dream, I heard you from outside." He coughed again.

Sherlock didn't move or speak. John got up.

"I'm letting you go back to sleep." The doctor said cowardly as he awkwardly walked backward to the door. After a minute the room fell silent again and Sherlock let the tears he was holding roll across his nose and cheeks and fall on the pillow.

… … …

tbc

…

_**A word for my dear british readers :**  
>I will be in London for a few days in July (somewhere around the 20th).<em>

_Maybe we can have a pint somewhere._

_Private messages are welcome._

_Hope to read/see you soon! _


	3. Nervous breakdown

Miss Crookshanks : and it's just the beginning. Cruel? Well maybe a little :p  
>7thWonder : here comes the third chapter. Hope you'll like it :)<br>watergoddesskasey : sometimes middle of nowhere is good! Believe me!  
>Boobunny60 : Yes he is. Do you think he has good reasons? (Thank you :))<br>Lumoa : Yes at this exact moment, John is a coward. He has is own reason though...  
>Real or not : voici le troisième chapitre (j'ai bien entendu ta parenthèse j'y travaille). Tu y es quand?<p>

Thank you very much, as always.

He comes the (short) third chapter.

**3 – Nervous breakdown**

John spent the whole day on the sofa waiting like a look-out, expecting to see a tired-looking Sherlock walking through the sitting room's threshold. In vain. Sherlock had locked himself in his bedroom (John checked).

The blond haired man was reviewing the movie of the last evening and morning events. He wanted them to make sense, he wanted them to fit his habits, fit his usual life, but that was just impossible. Having his highly functioning sociopath roommate telling him he wanted to have sex with him definitely didn't match his usual way of life. Sherlock kissed him, roughly, scarily. John was so mad at him. But then he found him on the floor, needing help, unable to take care of himself, then the nightmare, the words he said, and those blue grey eyes staring at nothing glowing strangely. John got up, he couldn't stand it anymore, he had to sort this out, he had to know...

He knocked on Sherlock's door. No answer, of course. He knocked again.

"Sherlock open the door." He asked and found no answer "Sherlock?" nothing "Sherlock please".

John waited five more minutes and heard the key in the lock. He opened the door slowly, Sherlock was back in his bed, back turned to the door in the same posture he was the last time John was here.

"Sherlock, are you all right?" The doctor asked anxious.

"John, I opened the door so you didn't have to break in. I'm alive and well. Now, please can you go away?" The brown haired man said in a low voice.

"Sherlock..." John walked around the bed to see the detective's face and froze. Sherlock's eyes were puffy and red and circled with black shadows, his skin was whiter as ever "Sherlock ?" The doctor came to sit on the bed's edge right in Sherlock's field of vision. "You look awful, Sherlock," great that was the perfect thing to say "are you okay?" Far better you stupid!

Sherlock pierced the blond haired man with his grey eyes. "No I'm not right, look at me!" He said out of patience, his voice still low though. The doctor felt incredibly stupid and didn't know what to answer to that. "I've spent the last six hours crying, I haven't cried since my childhood and now look at me, I just can't stop myself!" As to illustrate Sherlock's words, two tears rolled on his cheeks as he moved and sat on the bed. He looked confused and furious.

"I'm sorry..." What was he sorry for?

"What are you sorry for?" The brown haired man hissed.

"I don't know," he admitted "I haven't done anything wrong but I feel I'm in fault here. Are those tears for me?"

"I don't know!" Sherlock shouted "I just can't help myself crying without sense or reason, I'm crying ever since..." he stopped "I've been crying ever since I dreamed you left me." Sherlock frowned as if he was connecting the dot and still couldn't see the picture "Why?" he looked right in John's eyes expecting the blond man to give him a satisfying answer.

"Well," the doctor coughed to clear his throat, "sometimes, when you have a vivid dream, you over react when you wake up..."

"It's been six hours!" Sherlock shouted.

"Calm down Sherlock, it's okay!"

"No it's not okay, I don't feel okay, stop saying everything is okay when, obviously, nothing, absolutely nothing, is okay"

"Right Sherlock, I'm sorry but calm down and stop shouting like that!"

"If only I could just stop crying!"

"Sometimes the only way to make it stop is to give in and cry all the tears out."

"It doesn't make sense !"

"Maybe but it works."

"I can't cry in front of you !"

"Sherlock, you already are..." John smiled. Suddenly a sound came out of Sherlock's throat as he busted out into tears. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed loudly.

John opened his eyes wide, he was helpless, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, the one and only was having a nervous breakdown right in front of him. What was he supposed to do? He hesitated a second or two but his natural self emerged and he moved closer to the brown haired man circling his shoulders with his arm and rocking him gently to comfort him.

"I'm here Sherlock, you can let go, I'm holding you, you are not alone."

Sherlock's hands grabbed John's jumper as he buried his head in his chest.

It took the distressed man half an hour to calm himself. He let go of John's damp jumper and lay himself on his bed. He was absolutely exhausted and about to fall into sleep.

"You have to rest, I'm letting you sleep..." John didn't finished his phrase, Sherlock caught a fistful of his jumper and opened his eyes.

"Please John, can you wait until I sleep?" He asked weakly. John nodded and the detective relaxed on his pillow.

Sherlock woke up in the late evening. He blinked several times. Something was unusual but he just couldn't...yeah that was it...he wasn't alone in his bed. He turned his head on his right and saw John sitting on the bed, back on the wall – that must have been quite uncomfortable – he was looking at him.

"You speak in your sleep." John said.

"What? No I don't !" Sherlock replied offended.

"If you say so."

"You stayed here? Why?" The brown haired man asked.

"Sherlock, you're still holding my jumper."

"What?" Sherlock looked at his hand "Oh!" He opened his fist, his fingers were numb "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I took advantage of the silence to think."

Sherlock's body stiffen.

"You speak in your sleep, you know that?"

"No, John, I don't!" Sherlock frowned "What did you think about?"

"You know what I was thinking about. I was thinking about what you said, what you did yesterday and this morning. The two faces of the same you the two different ways you said the same thing" John stopped speaking for a moment and looked at Sherlock's face "You are scared of losing me."

"And?"

"And I wasn't sure to understand why. Why you were so scared but before that why you needed me so much. But you gave me the answer" Sherlock frowned again "Did I tell you, you speak in your sleep?"

"John I..." The brown haired man opened his eyes wide "What did I say?"

"You said _John I love you._"

…

_(Do you like my cliffhanger?) _


	4. Poison

**Lumoa :** :)  
><strong>Boobunny60 :<strong> That's my favourite part too (well...no in fact it usually is the slash *^^*)

**Watergodesskasey : **Oh don't cry kasey...everything is gonna be all right :p  
><strong>Miss Crockshanks :<strong> uh uh uh...no you don't, you love reading cliffhangers (or I hope so because...)  
><strong>Breathing is over-rated :<strong> I know I am a bad girl … but I love being one. Sherlock is an oversized child with a big brain (I love him like that :p).

**Real or not :** New evolution...and...hold on...a plot! Well...at least I tried... :)

Pour le français ça avance, si j'ai le temps j'update avant les vacances et donc (transition) je serais sur Londres du 19 au 26. (PV pour un eventuel meeting au sommet :p).

Dear readers, as always thank you for reading and reviewing my stories, it makes The Medusa happy.

Chapter 4 is here, enjoy and please R&R

**4 - Poison**

It was Sherlock's turn to feel like a dear in the headlights. He had been frozen in the same position for two minutes straight, mouth half opened, eyes locked on John's face searching for clues which would help him to know what John would say next to prepare his answer. But John kept silent and Sherlock felt suddenly dizzy again.

"You can forget to eat but can't forget to breathe, Sherlock."

The detective suddenly noticed he was holding his breath and gasped. John chuckled.

"I don't see anything funny here." Sherlock said coldly.

"No you're right, having you dealing with emotions you can't control is not funny."

"How do you feel now you know it's all because of you?"

"Do I have to take the blame or be flattered?"

"Pick one!"

"It's not that easy!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's all very sudden!"

"I've been loving you for months!"

"I've been knowing it for minutes!"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does, Sherlock!" John moved his back and made a face, it was stiffen because of the long hours John spent leaning on the wall waiting for Sherlock to wake up, "Yesterday morning everything was normal then you turned alternatively into a horny bastard, a weak patient, you fell into depression and now you love me, it's a lot to compile don't you think?"

"Technically everything you just said happened because I love you."

"Sorry for not respecting the chronological order Sherlock." John sighed "Anyway," he sat straighter and looked at Sherlock's face "Sherlock, I like you but..."

"Don't, John !" Sherlock caught John's eyes "Please." He added in a whisper.

"Sherlock..."

"No! Not now..." Sherlock jumped nimbly out of the bed "Let's eat, shall we?"

"Sherlock..."

"Chinese?"

"Okay, all right..." John sighed.

… … …

"Eat!" John ordered his mouth full of noodles.

Sherlock looked at his Chinese food without seeing it.

"Sherlock, it's your favourite, eat!" He pointed at Sherlock with his chopsticks.

"How do you know it's my favourite?"

"I've been living with you for a while now, I noticed things."

"That, you did."

"Sherlock!"

"Do you have to be that bossy?"

"Apparently, I do, yes!" John frowned and Sherlock laughed lightly

"I like it." The brown haired man added before putting broccoli in his mouth. John shook his head and finished his noodles in silence.

"Fortune cookie?" Sherlock asked searching in the paper bag.

"Yeah why not, if you don't yell at the poor thing for telling nonsenses as you usually do.

"I won't, I promise." Sherlock smiled again throwing a cookie in John's direction and the soldier caught it in the air. He broke it and unfolded the little piece of paper he found inside.

"Really funny, Sherlock."

"Oh come on, John, read it out loud!"

"You will fall in love with the genius you live with." John sighed "How did you manage to do that?"

"I paid the delivery boy to put it on the cookie."

"Great," John made a face "will you read yours?"

"I didn't make one for myself"

"Maybe but there are two in the bag, so open yours."

Sherlock broke the cookie and unfolded the paper. His face turned blank and he clenched his jaws.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"You will be hurt, real bad, in a close future." He read in a low voice.

John frowned and went up, he crossed the space between him and the genius and hold out his hand to to the brown haired man. He read the note.

"Bad joke?"

"Maybe..."

"You'd better ask the delivery boy if anybody put that fortune cookie in the bag though."

"I will."

After that Sherlock's good mood was gone for good and he kept silent for a long time.

"I'm going to bed," John said turning of the TV "I have to be at the surgery," he looked at his watch "in five hours." He rubbed his face with his left hand.

"Will Sarah be there?" Sherlock asked.

"Sarah is a work colleague, of course she will be there, Sherlock." John answered tartly.

"I know what you think, John, but everything isn't always about you. Good night."

John opened his mouth to say something back but didn't find the word he was searching for so he just left the room and went upstairs.

Sherlock searched in his pocket and took out a little white square of paper he tore out from the fortune cookie's message. There was a single black letter written on it, a highly threatening M.

The morning came faster than John expected and he groaned when the cellphone he used as an alarm clock buzzed loudly. He rubbed his face and got up. He took a shower. He drank tea. He ate toasts. He took his coat. He got out.

Walking on the street finished to wake him and his brain switched on. Sherlock wasn't home, his coat wasn't on the coat-peg. Where was he?

The answer was simple, he was talking with Sarah at the surgery's staff entrance. John hid behind a parked ambulance. Why did he do that? He didn't know, it was kind of a reflex. He waited until Sherlock went away then run right after his ex girlfriend.

"Sarah?" he shouted on the hall "Hey! Is it Sherlock I saw with you a minute ago?" He asked directly.

"Yes," Sarah answered as directly.

"What was he doing here?"

"Why people go to a surgery, John?" She asked teasingly.

"Is he ill?" The blond haired man asked concerned.

"You know I can't answer to that question, John."

"But..."The doctor frowned "Why didn't he talk to me?"

"John, please..." Does everybody had to tell him that _John please?_

"But..."

"John if you want to know, ask him." Sarah said ill at ease "Now if you will excuse me I have to go back to work."

John stood there, mouth open. He didn't know what to do. He felt the urge to call Sherlock but resisted it. What would he say? _Hey Sherlock, I saw you talking to Sarah but you didn't see me because I was spying on you from behind a car? _He felt suddenly stupid.

The good doctor's shift at the surgery seemed to last an eternity. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be sure Sherlock was all right.

At 4 pm he grabbed his coat and left, almost running. He was breathless when he pushed the 221B's door.

"Sherlock?" He shouted from the stairs "Sherlock?" Once again as he opened the apartment's door.

The detective was sitting on the sofa, a book in his hands.

"Sherlock! Are you all right?" John asked. He looked like a mad man.

"Why wouldn't I be right, John?" The brown haired man answered in a calm voice.

"I saw you this morning, at the surgery and..."

"I know, I saw you."

"What? You saw me and didn't tell me..."

"You were hiding behind a car, John, I thought letting you know I saw you would hurt your feelings."

"Sherlock, are you fucking kidding me?"

"Please John, can you calm yourself?"

"Why did you want to see Sarah?"

"I needed a check up."

"Why?"

"Because the message in the fortune cookie came from Moriarty and I needed to be sure he didn't poisoned me or something."

"Moriarty? Poison? Are you all right?"

"Yes I'm all right, John."

"But...but why didn't you tell me? I'm a doctor, I could have helped you."

"Isn't it obvious John?"

"No, it isn't!"

"I just can't let you touch me."


	5. Night out

**LIGHTNSHADOWS :** Well...one of your hypothesis is the good one :)**  
>Boobunny60 :<strong> How romantic you are ;) Well that's a chance because there will be a lot of romance in this story :)  
><strong>watergoddesskasey :<strong> It's not a question of homophobia, it's more a matter of feelings. John doesn't know what to think about Sherlock's (quite spontaneous and aggressive) love.**  
>Miss Crookshanks :<strong> Thank you for the cake!**  
>xLouise, thisisforyou <strong>and** helenecolin :** Thanks a lot!**  
>Real or not :<strong> Mean...? Oooooh no!

If you want to know what mean means, read this chapter.

Enjoy :p

R&R

**5 – Night out **

John was standing close to the sofa, his hands shaking, he was furious. Sherlock left him in the dark, he was a doctor and he decided _not to_ ask for his help, he asked Sarah. _He asked Sarah!_

John felt useless and, strangely, rejected.

_I just can't let you touch me._

John felt even more angry about the detective, he looked at him. He took a step closer and, without warning put his hand on both sides of Sherlock's face, the brown haired man looked startled.

"I'm touching you with the hands of a doctor, the hands of a friend. After all we've been through together, I won't let you take me away from you, even if I can't give you what you want." He stopped and tangled his fingers in the brown curls. "With Moriarty on the loose and after you, trying to drive you paranoid, I can't leave you. Is that understood?"

The brown haired man was looking at John's face, feeling the heat of his hands on his face and scalp, John was scared for him, he wanted to help him, be as close as he allowed himself to be. The heat was burning his skin now but the detective forced himself not to think about it and focus on the words he said. _I can't leave you..._

"Sherlock?" John was running out of patience.

"Yes," the detective said, "yes, I won't keep things from you any more, John."

"All right," John loosen his grip on Sherlock's hair "thank you." he let go of the brown haired man's face.

There were no signs of food poisoning and the next day, after they received the results of the blood test, they got confirmation that everything was all right. The delivery boy from the Chinese restaurant told them a man had paid him to put a false fortune cookie in the bag. Two times on the same delivery, the boy was going to be a millionaire someday. Anyway the boy couldn't tell much about the mysterious man except that he wore a hat and a black coat and was shorter than Sherlock (that was easy). Could have been Moriarty could have been anybody.  
>.<p>

Nothing special happened the next days but John was on soldier mode, always on the watch. Standing closer to Sherlock when they were outside, closer than before when they were inside. For the detective, it was a real torture. He often refrained himself from grabbing the shorter man's arm and pulling him close, kissing him, grazing his skin...

… … …

Sherlock was lying on the sofa, watching the ceiling, thinking of what he would do to John if he let him when he felt a hand on his ankle, he jumped an moved his leg sharply.

"Sherlock!" John said "It's okay, it's me."

Sherlock felt silly. John sat at the other end of the sofa.

"Sorry, I thought you heard me."

"No I was...deep in my thoughts..."

"Right," John sighed "you know what? It's depressing in here, we haven't gone anywhere fun for a week, what do you think about going out tonight?"

"I don't know John..."

"Come on!" John was enthusiastic about the idea.

"We can go to Angelo's..."

John frowned "Well, I was thinking of having fun, maybe see people, have a drink or something, maybe we can ask Lestrade or Mike?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Sherlock, please..." Oh it was his turn to say the words, well, why not.

"All right, but not Mike, I don't want the both of you talking of when you were at school together, it's boring."

"Well, okay," Sherlock the tactless man "Lestrade though, you can bore me to death talking about missing persons and olds cases." John smiled and when he saw the corner of Sherlock's mouth twitch he knew he won.

When Lestrade picked up his phone and heard John's voice, he thought something happened so when the doctor asked him if he wanted to go to the pub with him and Sherlock he first laughed then accepted, quite curious.

An odd vision: Sherlock siting in front of a pint. John almost laughed and the detective pouted.

"That's not fair, John. This his your world, not mine, laughing is cruel."

"Come on Sherlock! You must admit it's funny." John smiled.

Lestrade arrived, he was accompanied by a brow woman Sherlock and John didn't know.

"Guys, this is Linda, a colleague from Cardiff, she's here for the week, I asked her to join us."

"Hello," John got up to salute the newcomers "I'm John, this is Sherlock, nice to meet you he said smiling.

Sherlock didn't get up, didn't salute either.

"Hello, nice to meet you too, Greg told me about you and your skills." Linda said smiling too. She had wide blue eyes, a harmonious face and full red lips, she had a little something of a modern Snow White with black trousers and a red jumper. She sat on the chair at John's left while Lestrade sat in front of her next to Sherlock.

"So you are a detective." She said to Sherlock a smile still hung on her lips.

"Consultant detective." The brown haired man answered coldly.

"Right. Greg told me he calls you when he needs help on a case."

"He calls me often, yes."

Lestrade made a face and John smiled apologetically.

"And why are you in London, Linda?" The doctor asked.

"I'm writing a criminology thesis, I came to interview Professor Lewis."

"The Professor Lewis? I met him at a medical congress, it was, well, ten years ago"

"He is fascinating, when he speaks, you forget about the rest!"

"Just like you." Sherlock said his voice colder than before. John coughed and Lestrade looked ill at ease. Linda just smiled lightly.

"Sherlock, Greg told me you are a real genius."

"Yes, I am."

"Okay...and you John you are a doctor?"

"Medical doctor, was an army doctor."

"And you work with Sherlock?"

"Well, I help when he asks me to, when he needs a medical opinion, he does all the work really."

"John," she leaned closer and laughed a flirty laugh "don't be modest." She said.

Suddenly Sherlock got up and walked out of the bar at light speed. He looked really mad.

"Sherlock!" John got up too "Excuse me..." He said to Linda and Lestrade before running after the detective.

"Boyfriend problem?" The woman asked to the DI.

"They are not together." Lestrade answered.

"Are you sure?" Linda asked, surprised.

.

"Sherlock!" John shouted as he run on the alleyway following the detective "Stop!" The brown haired man kept on walking and John ran faster to reach him. He caught the man's arm and tugged "Sherlock, won't you stop now!"

"Why?" Sherlock made a violent about turned, is face was full of anger.

"What was that, Sherlock? Why did you left like that?"

"I couldn't stand it!" The detective shouted.

"What?"

"Her, outrageously flirting with you, right in front of _me_."

"For god's sake Sherlock, we were talking, I have a right to speak with people. That's why we went out, to see people!"

Sherlock put his hand on John's shoulder's and pushed him to the closest wall.

"The only person I want to see is you." The detective said his face close to John's.

"I know that and it drives me crazy, that's why I needed to go out, I needed air, I needed to be away from 221B."

"If so, why did you ask me to come with you?"

"Because I couldn't leave you alone."

"I'm not a child John, and you're not my keeper." Sherlock took a step back "Don't think you're responsible of me. You reek of guilt. I don't need that." He said then he was running again.

.

.

John was walking his way home, he wanted to think properly.

Sherlock's possessiveness was intolerable. He just couldn't let him act like that. He needed to tell him he wasn't his property. John was walking fast, hands in his jacket pockets. He was so deep in thought that he didn't see the car before it hit him and disappeared in the night.

… … …

_Love my cliff?_

_See you in a week (Holidays!)_

_Yes THIS is mean :p_

_xx_


	6. Down

All right, I see everybody loved my cliff :p  
>As always thanks to all the readers and reviewers!<p>

**Boobynny60, Zonya, Catt Holmes, watergoddesskasey :** Hope you will like this one (am I talking about a new cliff?)**  
>Miss Crookshanks :<strong> Yeah I am! But for lemon squares I can be worse than him :p Thanks!  
><strong>Prettylittlescars :<strong> I love possessive Sherlock too. Do you like puppy eyes Sherlock? Because...**  
>Booknoodles :<strong> Yeah I thought this story needed funny times, this was one of them. Thanks for reading :)**  
>Oryon UK :<strong> Yes you should! :p Like I said I love possessive Sherlock but I love insecure Sherlock too so...(You talked about blaming himself...well that's something close :)). Thank you!**  
>RhianKristen :<strong> I can't resist a puppy face... (A puppy face, my only weakness...!) :)  
><strong>Real or not :<strong> Sadique, oui sur ce coup là j'assume... Heureusement que voilà la suite, je ne voudrais pas avoir mauvaise réputation XD.

Back from London. Spent really (really!) good holidays. I'm poor but happy (well, let's say I couldn't resist shopping a little * cough * well, okay, a lot...)

Anyway I will stop moaning about London and write more about what is virtually happening in 221B Baker street (because in real life the address exists but it's a Sherlock Holmes museum, but hush Medusa, don't spoil the dreams...)

**6 – Down.**

"Where is he?" Sherlock shouted as he entered in the hospital.

"Sir, you can't shout like that!" The nurse behind the reception desk said.

"Where is he? Where is John Watson?" The detective asked again still shouting, uncharacteristically distressed.

"Sherlock!" A familiar voice said behind him.

"Lestrade, where is he?" The brown haired man said turning around to face the DI.

"He is all right, Sherlock." Lestrade said trying to calm the mad detective.

"I want to see him!" Sherlock tried to bypass the inspector.

"You can't !" Lestrade caught his arm "He is having an X-ray right now."

"It's all my fault..." The detective said freeing his arm from the policeman's grip.

"How could it be your fault Sherlock, he's been hit by a car..."

Sherlock put his phone on Lestrade's hand. The DI looked at it and frowned while reading the text message.

_The doctor is down! Down! Down! You're next! Cheers! M._

"M? Moriarty?"

"Who else?" Sherlock hissed. "Don't tell John."

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?" Asked a doctor holding medical reports.

"Yes?" Both Sherlock and Lestrade said "_I_ am DI Lestrade." The grey haired man said taking a step closer to the doctor.

"I just checked Mister Watson's X-rays, seems like he doesn't have internal injuries. He is bruised though, and is left wrist is broken. I wanted to keep him in observation but he is really stubborn. Maybe you can talk to him..."

"I'm taking him home." Sherlock said "Where is he?" The doctor looked at the DI inquiring.

"That man is John Watson's...roommate."

"And I'm taking him home."

"It would be wiser not to..." Sherlock's look stopped the doctor in the middle of his phrase "...all right."

"I need to see him, now!" Sherlock ordered and the doctor frowned.

"All right, come with me." The doctor sighed.

"John!" Sherlock shouted when he saw the blond haired man. He was sitting on a bed on the left side of the emergency room. He looked horrible, his left cheek was covered with dry blood, his wrist was in plaster and his jeans were torn. The detective crossed the room as fast as a shouting star and put his hands lightly on each side of John's face. "Are you all right? John I was so scared...I thought..."

"I'm...well, I'm not fine but I will be all right. I just want..."

"I'm taking you home." Sherlock said removing his hands from the injured man.

"Thanks."

They were sitting on a cab in silence on their way to Baker street.

"Can you...just not tell Harry about the car accident?"

"Why would I tell her?"

"People tell the family when something of that nature happens to someone, I'd call Mycroft if you were hit by a car."

"You wouldn't have to."

"Yeah maybe...anyway if the occasion presents itself don't tell Harry, please."

Silence fell again and for a little while they stared outside their respective windows.

"Why?" Sherlock finally asked.

"Sorry?" John snapped out of his thoughts.

"Why don't you want me to tell Harry?"

"She wouldn't understand."

"What?"

"That I accept to live with a liar."

"What?" Sherlock turned his head to look at John's face. The man looked really tired. He put his phone out of his jacket pocket and showed it to the detective.

_Will he tell you who was driving the car? See you next time. With love. M._

"Lucky it didn't break on the accident, aren't I?"

"John...I just wanted to spare you the fear of being a target."

"I'm a soldier, Sherlock, I'm used to be a target."

"John..."

"_I'm not a child, and you're not my keeper. Don't think you're responsible of me. You reek of guilt. I don't need that_...Am I quoting well?"

"John, I.."

"Shut up!" The soldier ordered and, surprisingly, Sherlock obeyed.

The cab stopped right in front of 221B and John stepped out leaving Sherlock inside. He opened the door. He was halfway to the first floor when he felt a hand on his. Sherlock tugged and the doctor fell in his arms.

"John I'm...I'm sorry. I thought I've lost you. I thought it was my fault." He rolled his arm around John's waist and cupped his cheek with his other hand. The doctor didn't make a move to free himself and the detective kissed him on the mouth soft and slow then he rested his forehead on John's.

"I know how it feels to be scared for you, Sherlock. I know what you've been through tonight. But it's no excuse for keeping me in the dark. And, please, stop kissing me like that." Sherlock stepped back from John and the doctor climbed the other half of the stairs before turning to Sherlock.

"I'm going to sleep now, I'll have time to be mad at you tomorrow since I can't go to work with a broken wrist. Goodnight Sherlock." He went up and closed his door.

John was mad at him, all right, anything he felt or said was fine, he was alive.

Sherlock spent the night on the sofa, awake and fully dressed. Just in case Moriarty was mad enough to show himself at the apartment. Just in case John needed something. Just in case he asked him to come upstairs.

He knew he was fooling himself, he knew John didn't want him. But he needed the idea, he wanted it to last in his head because it felt good. Or better that nothing. Better than having the man he loved asking him not to.

He got up, three or four times to make tea, just in case John showed up but the tea grew cold the four times and he decided to stop, mostly because he ran out of tea but also because he knew he was loosing his time.

"Sherlock?" John asked and the detective opened his eyes, he'd fallen asleep, he'd _actually_ fallen asleep ! John was standing between the sofa and the coffee table, he looked upset.

"What is it John?" Sherlock sat on the couch suddenly fully awake.

"I didn't want to wake you but...I need help." The doctor looked embarrassed.

"Of course, whatever you want."

"I just need you to cellotape a plastic bag around my plater, I would have done it myself but I'm bruised and I can't move my right arm properly...and I really need to shower..."

"Yes, yes of course," Sherlock smiled "I can do that." He stood up and gestured towards the couch "Sit down, I'll be right back."

Sherlock went to the kitchen and fumble in the drawers until he found cellotape and a plastic bag, then he came back in the sitting room. John was sitting on the couch watching the brown haired man in silence. The detective crossed the room and sat close to the doctor. He took his plastered arm and rested it on his lap then he applied himself to secure the porous shell with the bag and the cellotape. He did it really seriously and meticulously as John watched him.

"This will do," Sherlock said "maybe you should try to put water on it just to be sure."

"It's all right, Sherlock, I'm sure it will be perfect."

"Well, if you need anything else, let me know."

"Thank you." John said before getting up and leaving the room.

Then again, Sherlock waited, listening.

Eventually John came back in the room and Sherlock covered him with an anxious look.

"Sherlock, I, ah, need you again. How inconvenient this plaster his...It had to be the left wrist..."

"John..." Sherlock whispered.

"Those buttons are really small, I just can't..." The rest of the phrase got lost since Sherlock's eyes were riveted on John's open shirt.

"John...your ribs..." The detective's eyes opened wide and he got up slowly "And your stomach..." He took a step closer.

John looked at himself.

"Yes, I'm really lucky to be alive."

Sherlock laid his hands lightly on John's stomach, it was really bruised all blue and yellow, then he moved them to his shirts tails then buttoned them slowly. When he finished, he looked at John's left cheek and sighed.

"Very lucky." He said in a soft voice. Suddenly he froze. "John you still have dry blood on your hair."

"Oh," John tried to brush his hair with his right hand but stopped in mid air and made a face "Fuck!" He clenched his teeth.

"John!" Sherlock caught the blond haired man's hand between his, he hated to be that powerless and looked absolutely distressed. "I can wash your hair." He finally said.

"What?"

"Please, let me help you!"

"Well..."

"Please..."

John hesitated a moment, his hand locked up in Sherlock's. He felt the detective's impatient eyes on his face.

"All right..." He sighed and the brown haired man smiled like a mad man.

"Right, right..." He put John's hand to his chest and watched all around the room "The bathroom is too small, we should do this in the kitchen. Good, all right, sit here for a moment, I'm preparing everything."

John opened his mouth to say something but closed it, he was so happy to help. He sat on the sofa and watched the detective running everywhere. Then after several minutes, Sherlock came in the sitting room and hold out his hand to the doctor.

"Come on John, let's wash your hair." He smiled like a child.

… …. ….

_TBC_

_Hope you liked it!_

_Review please._


	7. Uncontrollable fear

Hello readers and reviewers!

**Colors Beyond the Spectrum :** Because it wasn't the good chapter :) You'll have to wait just a little more :)**  
>Boobynny60 :<strong> I love happy Sherlock (well...I love Sherlock _period_)**  
>Hootinan :<strong> Taken care of by Sherlock? The queue is -/- (1 000 miles) -/- here :p**  
>Miss Crookshank :<strong> So cute I could eat him!  
><strong>helenecolin :<strong> More help in this chapter :)  
><strong>anksenamoon :<strong> No! I won't translate this story :) Mais bientôt une nouvelle histoire en français (faut juste que je trouve le plot, je prends tous les points de départ :p)  
><strong>Real or not :<strong> Better and better :p Thanks for the book reference. Amazon is my friend. Mais vu que je me suis achetée l'intégrale de Sherlock Holmes (plus un bon millier de choses) je vais garder l'idée dans mon panier :p  
>Tu étais à la convention à Olympia?<strong><br>watergoddesskasey :** _Thanks for your input _:p :p :p

As always thanks for comments and for reading.

Please review!

**7 – Uncontrollable fear**

John was sitting on a chair back to the kitchen sink with a towel on his shoulder.

"All right John," Sherlock said while putting the shampoo on the work plan "is the height okay?"

"It's okay Sherlock..." John asked himself why he agreed to that, but Sherlock looked so happy.

The brown haired man turned the water on.

"All right, lean your back on the chair," he said leaning John's head on his hand "tell me if anything is wrong." He added from John's right side as he cautiously started to wet the doctor's head.

The water was a little cold but the doctor didn't complain, he just made a face when some run into his ear.

"Sorry John, I'm not in a really comfortable position, because of the cupboards. I'm too tall. Would you...would you mind if I put my legs on each side of yours, it would really help?" The brown haired man asked tentatively. John looked up and saw the cupboards hanged here, then he looked at Sherlock's face, the man was annoyed by the situation, he really wanted to do well.

"If you must." John said flatly.

The detective moved slowly and managed not to touch John. He didn't want him to think he did this to trap him or anything. The blond haired man watched him with a little apprehension which sadden Sherlock a little. Still Sherlock kept on getting John's hair wet running his hand on it. He took the shampoo and put some in his hand and spread it in the silky blond hair massaging slowly. He felt John's eyes on him, watching every move, anticipating everything just in case. He didn't catch the doctor's eyes for he was cautiously avoiding them, after all he loved the man, being close to him like that was a real challenge, and to be true it was quite dangerous but he wanted John to trust him.

_I want rough sex with you_, he remembered his words, as far as they were true they also were a little too much _spontaneous_.

Sherlock made little circles in John's hair and lather up the shampoo. He let his hands run to the back of the doctor's head and did the same. Then he came back to John's temples and stroked them with his thumbs. He didn't want his body to react to the touch but he couldn't prevent his heart from beating faster, he managed to control his breathing though. What was John thinking? Probably he thought he had to be careful, maybe he was expecting an attack and was still on the verge to stand up and run away. Sherlock was...yes, he was scared, but he wanted to know so he looked down at the blond haired man below him...and felt his heart jump on his chest. John had closed his eyes, he was slowly breathing though his half-open mouth, relaxed. He was beautiful. Sherlock realized he had stop moving his hands on John's skull but his fingers were still tangled in his hair, which was quite suspicious. The detective couldn't stop contemplating the doctor's face. He wanted his mouth, he wanted to kiss it, lick it, bite it. But he couldn't claim it as his since the blond haired man had forbidden it. _But I love him._

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when he opened them again John was silently watching him.

_He is going to run away_, the detective thought. _He's going to push me away, stand up and run as far as he could._ His heart was pounding in his chest and his head.

But the moment passed and John didn't move, he just looked at Sherlock.

The detective moved his fingers again then he turned on the water and started rinsing the shampoo.

"Sherlock," John whispered "the water is a little cold." He simply said before closing his eyes again.

"Oh, sorry!" Sherlock answered. He was a little dazed, but the relief of John not storming out helped him breath normally again and he soon felt better. He ran his fingers though the doctor's hair and took all his time to rinse the shampoo. Finally he took a towel and softly patted John's head to dry his hair.

"It's okay, John. You can sat straighter now." he said softly and the doctor slowly opened his eyes. He caught Sherlock's blue piercing gaze. The detective legs were still on each sides of John's but he didn't feel threaten for the brown haired man looked shy and numb, which was new.

"Thank you," the doctor said and Sherlock took a step back to allow the man to stand "tomorrow I might need a shave, if it doesn't bother you." He said in a soft voice.

Sherlock opened his mouth, he was about to say something absolutely inappropriate but his brain worked faster than his vocal chords.

"No, not at all. I'll be happy to help." He finally said with a gentle smile.

_I love you._

John went out of the room.

Why did he do that? Why did he let Sherlock wash his hair, touch him, being that close to him?

Maybe because he needed to know if he could trust him...again.

Sherlock showed him he could.

He also showed him he really loved him. If he hadn't he would have taken what he wanted, claim what he needed and John would have had to hurt him bad.

But he didn't.

The look in the detective's eyes when John opened his wasn't faked and it touched the doctor more than he thought it could. Sherlock could be quite tender, that was a strange thing to discover especially after the words he said not that long ago, those were lacking sensibility, they were all rough and animal.

The thing John still needed to understand and accept was that Sherlock could be both. He could be both in the same day, the same hour even the same minute.

Was he prepared for that?

John's mobile chimed.

He read the text message and hurried back in the kitchen. Sherlock was reading his own text, and couldn't turn his eyes away from the small screen.

_I will take him away from you. Xx M._

"No he won't!" John said.

"John..." Sherlock answered looking in the blond haired man's eyes, he looked distressed.

"Sherlock, don't let him do that!" The doctor almost ordered.

"But..."

"I'm here."

"As my friend..."

John crossed the distance between them and put his right hand on Sherlock's waist "I'll always be your friend."

"Will you be my love?" The tall man said before even thinking it. He opened his eyes wide. No, no, no, he didn't say that, John was about to go away now, he was about to leave. Always that uncontrollable fear. One second, two, three, John was still there. Did he even heard the words? An awful silence fell in the kitchen.

"I don't know Sherlock." John finally said.

"Can I just hold you now?" Sherlock asked tentatively.

"You have to be careful with my wrist but, yes, you can."

Sherlock put his arms around John's waist and pulled him close. He rested his cheek on the little man's still wet hair and closed his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

John didn't answered but gripped Sherlock's shirt and pulled him closer.


	8. No promises

Hi, readers and reviewers!

**Angel-Castiel :** I didn't think this story was sad. Maybe there is melancholy in it sometimes... I just don't have the distance to see really. Anyway, don't worry I just can't let Sherlock and John be sad or hurt too long (this would be unacceptable! :))

**watergoddesskasey :** Glad you liked it :p

**Boobunny60 :** Here comes the chapter 8, greedy you!

**helecolin :** Does John love Sherlock, maybe some clues in this chapter :p

**Real or not :** There was a manga convention at Olympia, I just saw an ad when I went to the DW experience. Pour le nouveau chapitre : le voilà! ;)

**OryonUK :** I'm glad to read you again. Sherlock is absolutely torn between what he wants and what he has to do, this story is about learning patience. John is just like anybody facing a new thing, he has tu understand it, and here, understand himself. But let's not spoil the next chapters :)

**XmillieX :** Thank you!

Your messages and reviews makes me happy, believe me I really need it. So thank you very much and hope you'll like this chapter.

**8 – No promises**

_I will take him away from you. Xx M._

John ran to Sherlock because he knew the detective would be scared. Sherlock always had been the stronger mind. When it came to cases, he was the best. But the last few days Sherlock experienced a horrible mix of love, anger and fear, just because he unveiled his feelings for John.

When the doctor received the text he knew Sherlock would be over reacting, that he would need to be comforted.

_I will take him away from you. Xx M._

John also knew that if Sherlock could loose him, he could as well loose Sherlock. The text had been sent to the both of them, that was a strategical move for Moriarty.

To scare them, scare them both.

And John realised something important. He was scared to loose Sherlock too.

What it really meant, he didn't know, but right here, right now, in his arms he felt good.

"Sherlock?" The shorter man said to the detective's chest.

"Hmmm..."

"I..." John didn't know what words were about to get out of his mouth but he just let them fall. "Can you give me time?"

Sherlock turned his head slowly and looked in John's eyes. What did he meant exactly?

"I'm not sure to understand..."

"Well," John chuckled "to be honest, I'm not sure I understand either."

The detective looked puzzled.

"It's just, well, I like being loved by you, even if your way of showing how much you care is quite disturbing sometimes...And...I...know that..." That wasn't easy to say "I know that I care for you," Sherlock's blue eyes were burning him but he kept on looking at them "I am scared for you, protective of you and, if I can't say if I'm in love with you, I can say that what I feel for you is deeper and more complex than friendship. So...what I'm asking you now is to give me time to understand what this is."

Sherlock stood still for a moment thinking then he took a deep breath.

"What if you find you have brotherly love for me?"

"I won't play games with you Sherlock, as soon as I'll have an answer, I'll let you know." John sighed "I know you don't like to wait but..."

"No, John. It's all right." Sherlock put his right hand on John's cheek stroking lightly his skin with his thumb "As far as I don't want you to find out you'll never love me the way I want you to, I'll give you time to sort this out because maybe..."

Sherlock was showing patience, that was something.

"But, don't make me wait too long, please?"

Okay, my mistake...But Sherlock was changing in a, well, good way.

John smiled.

"I have to go back to the hospital, they asked me to pop by to prove I'm still alive." Sherlock let go of the blond haired man "Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

… … …

"We've been in here for hours, John. I'm glad to know you're all right, except for your wrist, but that was torture!"

"Yes, Sherlock, you already said that, twelve times, at least..."

"But those places are so boring!"

John smiled and shook his head.

"Lestrade asked me to come to the Yard today, he wants to know everything that happened after we got out of the pub." John said and Sherlock looked at him quizzically.

"Will you tell him we argued?"

"Well, he already knows that..."

"Does he know why?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes, I'll come with you at the Yard." Was Sherlock answer. As far as John liked being in the detective's company, he had a bad feeling about him coming to the Yard.

… … …

"You don't have to come with me, you know." John said as they were sitting on the cab.

"No, it's all right, I don't mind. And we're already here." Sherlock pointed at the building through the window. The brown haired man jumped out of the cab and John followed.

They knew exactly where to go and everybody in the building knew where they went but just to be sure they followed them with their eyes until they reached the lift then DI Lestrade's office.

"Come in!" the man said when John knocked at the door.

"Lestrade..." John started "Oh, hello Linda."The Snow White like woman was sitting on a chair in front of Lestrade's desk. Obviously their entrance interrupted a conversation.

"Hello John." The DI said and Linda smiled.

"Hello." Sherlock said his voice soft and low.

"Sherlock." Lestrade nodded "Are you all right John?" He asked pointing at John's wrist.

"I won't run the London marathon tomorrow but I'm okay."

"Glad to hear it," Linda said a smile still hung on her mouth "you must be relieved, Sherlock."

"Of course I'm relieved, what do you think?" The detective answered sharply.

Linda's smile dropped instantly, she seemed to realise she asked a stupid question.

"You wanted me to come to tell you what happened yesterday after we left the pub?" John said ignoring the tension that fell in the room. "I'm afraid it's going to be a short story, I haven't seen much."

"It was Moriarty, he tried to kill John, I asked you not to tell John but he received a text from M." Sherlock said, Lestrade opened his mouth but said nothing. Linda just looked puzzled. "Moriarty send us several texts, we thought he tried to drive us paranoid but it's more than that." He took a step closer to John and looked in his eyes "More than that." His voice trailed off and silence fell in the room.

John looked at the piercing eyes and drown in the blue pupils for a moment.

"He knew," he whispered "before I even noticed."

Sherlock moved a little closer to John and put his hand on his right arm.

Lestrade coughed loudly and the two men looked at him.

"Well, right, what do you know about Moriarty?" The DI said.

"Not much..." Sherlock answered gloomily.

"I didn't even see the car, all I can say is that the headlights were off, the car was dark..." John looked at the floor.

"Don't speak as if it's your fault, John." Sherlock said looking back in the blond haired man's eyes.

"Don't look at me as if it's yours. I know what's in your head and you're not responsible for Moriarty's actions." John answered, his face serious.

"I'll try to gather as many informations as I can, but I don't know where to start. There are no tyre marks on the floor. He didn't even brake." Lestrade said "Let me know when you receive another text, and, please," he made a pause "don't do anything on your own."

"All right."John said, and Sherlock kept quiet but nobody thought that he would answer anything.

The two men took their leave.

"Who's that Moriarty?" Linda asked facing Lestrade.

"That's the question..." The DI sighed.

"Yeah...anyway," she smiled her most charming smile "do you still think there not together?"

"Well..." Lestrade smiled his own most charming smile.


	9. How to piss a cook

Hello dear readers and reviewers!

**watergoddesskasey :** Thanks ;)  
><strong>anksenamoon :<strong> Google traduction, c'est tricher! Now grab a dictionary and read in english! :p  
><strong>madam loon :<strong> Linda is quite dumb sometimes, yes. I think she likes being the centre of attention... Obviously she's not, so she makes noise just to be seen :p  
><strong>helenecolin :<strong> Are you sure? Well...**  
>Boobunny60 :<strong> Maybe we should write a song about greediness (btw...I'm still waiting for your next chapter!)**  
>PrettyLittleScars :<strong> Thank you :)

Something makes me think that you're gonna love this chapter.

If you do, review!

Thank you!

**9 – How to piss a cook**

It was the middle of the afternoon. They were back to 221B and sitting on the sofa. John was reading the newspaper – which wasn't easy with his left broken wrist - when he heard a muffled laugh. He looked up, Sherlock was laughing, he seemed deep in his thoughts.

"What is so funny?" John smiled.

"Nothing, I mean..." He turned a little to look John's face "You said _I know what's in your head _and it was true, you really did."

"Well that wasn't difficult to guess." John said and Sherlock laughed again.

Seeing Sherlock laugh like that felt good and without realising it he moved his hand in his direction, he was too far to be touched though and John's smile froze on his lips.

"Come here." He said softly. Sherlock's heart jumped in his chest. He slowly moved closer to the blond haired man and stopped just a few inches away. John cupped Sherlock's cheek in his free hand and stroke it lightly with his thumb.

"I..." John took a deep breath "Sherlock I don't want you to misinterpreted that, Maybe I shouldn't..." The doctor tried to remove his hand but Sherlock grabbed his wrist "It's just that I like it, when you are close to me..." He stroked the soft cheek once more. Sherlock didn't say a word but moved slowly, there was something he wanted to do. He laid on the sofa and rested his head on John's lap. He pressed the back of his head on John's belly and closed his eyes. He looked like a big cat having a nap and, like he would do with a big cat, John caressed the detective's hair lightly. They stayed like that for a long time, Sherlock was half asleep, his hand was now resting on John's lap. The blond haired man finally felt completely at ease stroking the brown curls tangling his fingers in the silky hair. Then something absolutely unromantic happened, John's stomach growled extraordinarily loud. Sherlock opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to watch John's face and the doctor chuckled.

"I think it's time to take you out for diner." The detective smiled.

"Ah! My favourite client! And his handsome boyfriend! Come in, come in!" Angelo said a little to enthusiastically, well, as always. The man led Sherlock and John to their usual table close to the window and lit the candle winking at John as he always do. But this time, the blond haired man didn't seem to bother.

"Are you going to eat?" John asked taking a peak at Sherlock's face from behind his menu.

"Depends on what you order." Sherlock smiled.

"What about vegetarian lasagne?"

"That's perfect." Sherlock smiled again and John shake his head hiding his own smile.

"Sooo... love birds, what will it be today?" Angelo appeared suddenly.

"Vegetarian lasagne for John, and...the usual for me. Thank you."

"All right, all right, green lasagne and a bottle of water. You know that, for you, the both of you, the food will always be free here, why don't you eat, I'm going to get upset, my food is good you know."

"Of course it's good, or I wouldn't bring John here."

"Well, well, lasagne, water, on their way..." The exuberant man went back to his kitchen.

John looked around them, the restaurant wasn't crowded, there were only two other couples in the dining room..._other couples?_...Where did this thought came from? Suddenly John turned his head and found Sherlock's eyes. The detective lent over the table, his hand run on the wood until it reached John's and he entwined their fingers.

"Would it be a problem if we consider this diner our first date?" He asked his voice soft and low.  
>John leaned over the table the same way, his face a few inches away from Sherlock's.<p>

"No." He whispered "That's a wonderful idea." He smiled. His eyes looked down Sherlock's face and locked on his gorgeous mouth for a minute then up to his beautiful blue eyes. Kissing the detective right here, right now was really tempting, but it was a little too public a place for John, he wasn't ready for that. Sherlock saw John's dilemma and rubbed the back of the doctor's hand with his thumb.

"I talk, you eat, then we go back home?"

"That's a good plan."

"Here comes the water," Angelo said "aaaand," the two men leaned back on their chairs untangling their fingers "vegetarian lasagne. Bon appétit!" Angelo took his leave.

John looked shyly at Sherlock.

"Eat." The detective said.

"Angelo is right, his food is really good." John said while eating his first bite. "Do you want to taste it?"

"I'd love to." Sherlock crooned. John messily put some food on his fork (right hand).

"Open your mouth." The doctor whispered. The detective closed his lips around the fork and licked it clean, then swallowed.

"Mmmm, you're right, that's good." Sherlock said watching John in a _really_ suggestive way. The doctor suddenly blushed.

"More?"

"Yes."

Suddenly Sherlock sharply turned his head to the window.

"John watch out!" He said throwing himself across the table. The glasses and the plates fell on the floor and, a second after, the window broke into pieces. Glass shattered and fell on their heads. "John, it's a bomb, someone threw a bomb through the window, move! Come on, faster!" Sherlock grabbed John's arm and run across the room. "Everybody down!" He yelled before pushing the kitchen's door. "It's a bomb, everybody down! For those who are close to the door, go out and call 999!" The two men ran out of the kitchen through the back door. They found themselves in a narrow alley, they run. John followed Sherlock blindly almost gasping for air. They didn't hear any explosion but they heard the fire truck's siren and the police's. After a while they stopped and Sherlock turned to face the man he loved. He put his hands on both sides of John's face.

"Are you all right? John, are you hurt?" He asked looking closely to the doctor's bruised face.

"It's nothing, scratches, that's all, nothing more than your own face." John said cupping Sherlock's cheek with his right hand. The detective frantically moved his hand on John's scalp, face and neck.

"I'm okay Sherlock, I'm okay." John caught Sherlock's eyes. The man looked uncharacteristically distressed. He stopped moving, holding his breath then suddenly he pulled John to him and imprisoned the man in a close embrace. His lips found John's and he kissed him desperately. The doctor clenched his hand on the detectives coat and kissed him back with the same eagerness pushing the taller man until his back collided with the closest wall. John bit Sherlock's lower lip, it hurt but the detective didn't care, he growled and his hands turned into fist in John's hair. The blond haired man slid his tongue in Sherlock's mouth and explored it a really long time, his hand now stroking the tall man's side lightly. The detective whimpered.

"Sherlock," John whispered on the brown haired man's lips and he opened his eyes "I told you I'd let you know when I'd found out what my feelings for you were."

"Yes?" Sherlock's body stiffen.

"Definitely not brotherly love." John kissed the detective's full mouth again, licked the swollen lips and, did he realised he was doing it, rubbed his body against Sherlock's. The detective lips moved to John's jawline, earlobe, neck. He nipped the skin as his hands run down the blonde's spine, grazing through the fabric of his jacket and shirt, he wanted to tore them off and growled in frustration. He rubbed his whole body against John's and he felt they were both really excited.

That's the moment Sherlock's phone chose to ring. The detective swore before answering, letting his left arm around John's waist.

"Keep on walking in that street, turn right at the crossroads. You can keep doing what you've been doing in my car but I'd prefer you don't. And, please Hurry." Sherlock growled.

"Who was that?" John asked when the detective put his phone back in his pocket.

"Mycroft is waiting for us."


	10. Welcome to the mansion

So...I was right to believe you'd like the last chapter :)

Thank you all, dear readers and reviewers!

**Boobunny60 :** Ah, Mycroft...always here when...not...needed :p Don't be mad, he is not that bad :)**  
>Kakashijewel :<strong> okay...I think something is bothering you...to bad I can't get what :p**  
>thisisforyou :<strong> Angelo is a minor character but I can't help liking him (maybe because of the candles and the winking :))**  
>anksenamoon :<strong> At least you try and that's a good point, thank you very much! I'm trying to write the next chapter of Swimming in blood before starting another story in french. Mais pas d'inquiétude ça va venir :p**  
>helenecolin :<strong> At least one person who's not angry about Mycroft! :)**  
>Real or not :<strong> Thank you...I'm sure you will long for the 11th chapter :)**  
>OryonUK :<strong> Yes, Sherlock seems to be really in love with John. And John, well, seems like he... appreciates... holding the, oh so sexy, detective in his arms (who wouldn't?). What will happened next? :)**  
>watergoddesskasey :<strong> Thaaaaaaanks (so many vowels :p)...(virtually hugging back)**  
>OnTheWinterSolstice :<strong> Thanks, hope you will like the next chapters too ;)**  
>Soot :<strong> Short or not your review made me blush :)

Here comes the 10th chapter with, Sherlock, John...and Mycroft...

**10 – Welcome to the mansion**

"Does it hurt?" Sherlock said cupping lightly John's face.

"I'm fine..." The doctor answered in a whisper.

"Mycroft, where are you driving us?" The detective said noticing the driver turned the wrong way.

"Penelope prepared your room, and the guest room."

"I'm not going to the mansion."

"Yes you are."

"Excuse me? What mansion?" The two Holmeses turned their head to watch John silently. "All right, excuse me to be here...It's just that I'm used to have a life, and lead it the way I want..."

"I'm taking you to the family mansion. It's a safe place. In spite of what Sherlock thinks, I don't want to _keep_ you here, I just want you _safe_."

"Safe...with twenty five armed guards in the garden...You just have to like it." Sherlock said gloomily.

"It's only for a week or two." Mycroft said casually.

"A week or two?" John frowned.  
>"Don't worry, we packed some of your clothes, and things you need."<p>

"You what?" The doctor opened his eyes wide.

"Told you..." Sherlock leaned closer to John and put his arm around his shoulders. The doctor made a face not because it hurt but because Sherlock's proximity, right here, in Mycroft's car made him ill at ease. The older Holmes seemed to notice it. He crossed his legs and took a file in his opened case reading it as if it was really important – maybe it was.  
>Sherlock kissed lightly John's temple.<p>

"Sherlock..." John whispered.  
>"Hmmmm?" The detective buried his face in the doctor's hair.<p>

"Maybe it's not the right place..."

"Maybe..." He kissed John's ear "Maybe not..."

"Sherlock, please..."

"All right..." He licked the blond haired man's earlobe "That's a shame, we have an hour to kill and nothing to do..." He teased.

John grabbed gently Sherlock's hair and tugged. He put his mouth close to the man's ear.

"Lucky we have two weeks to loose, in a big mansion, with no case, and absolutely nothing to do except, maybe, learn how to make you scream my name while I make you come." He whispered.

Sherlock planted his eyes in John's, his heart beating fast. He knew he didn't imagine what he just heard but just couldn't believe it. "How far is the guest room from yours?"

Sherlock opened his mouth but just couldn't speak. That was priceless and John couldn't help smiling.

"John..." The detective managed to say his voice unsteady.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Tonight?"

"If Mycroft don't spy on us, just like he is right now," John took a peak of the man still reading his files "yes, tonight."

Sherlock leaned closer "I love you." He said before giving John a quick kiss.

Mycroft coughed lightly, surely he heard everything.

… … …

The mansion was in the middle of a really large park rimmed with woods. It was a huge building made of stones with large windows and three floors.

When the car stopped, Anthea opened the door. John and Sherlock went out and the doctor smiled to the woman who was typing on her blackberry and didn't seemed to notice their presence.

"Hello my dear," Mycroft said and Anthea's face lighten with a radiant smile "is everything all right?"

"The property has been checked, everything is all right sir." The woman said raising her eyes from her phone.

"Perfect, thank you." Mycroft put his hand on the small of Anthea's back enjoining her to follow him. The women followed smiling widely. Sherlock frowned and John chuckled they both had a clear idea of what was happening between those two.

When John entered the mansion's hall, he refrained himself from whistling in admiration. The place was absolutely huge and covered in dark wood from the ground to the ceiling. In front of them a massive stair was leading to the first and second floor. Paintings were hung on every walls, hunting scenes, people who must be elders of the Holmes brothers and country houses.

"That's..." John started

"Ugly..." Sherlock finished.

"Amazing."

"If you say so." The detective might have his reasons not to like the place but it was everything but ugly.  
>"I know it's late but I suggest we all go to the study for a little moment." Mycroft said. It was always interesting to see how this man could make you think you have the choice when everything he said was an order in disguise. Sherlock wasn't a fool though and he sent his brother a reproachful look.<p>

"Please."  
>The detective asked silently John what he was thinking about it and the doctor nodded.<p>

They turned to their left and came in a room as beautiful as the hall with the slight difference that on the opposite wall of the door was a monumental marble fireplace overhung with a golden framed mirror.

"Ostentatious..." Sherlock sighed.

On their left was a beautiful desk which was right between two oversized windows framed with heavy red curtains. On each part of the fireplace two sofas were facing each other while a coffee table was set on a Persian rug.

"Shall we?" Mycroft gesture toward this part of the room and they all sat on the sofas. John and Sherlock on one, Mycroft on the other. Anthea came to sit on the armrest at Mycroft's right like an oversized - but damned sexy – parrot.

An awkward silence fell in the room.

"Why did you kidnap us?" Sherlock asked tartly.

"My dear brother, it seems like a man called Moriarty is after you, both of you, but that you know, and obviously I know it too. It seems that man tried to kill John. I let you deal with him but since he tried to blow the restaurant where you were having your...diner, I had to do something. I took you out of the town which was the wisest thing to do. And stop using words like 'kidnap' it's all so melodramatic." The older Holmes smiled his usual smile (the one that made Sherlock want to punch him in the face.) "I know the man is in London, he has a lot of connections. I'm trying to connect the dots right now." What that phrase meant, John didn't know. Sherlock did.

"A week, not a second more."

"All right, seven days starting tomorrow."

"Starting today."

"As you wish little brother. John," he turned his eyes to look at the silent doctor "make yourself at home." He stood up, so did Anthea. "Sherlock I let you show the house to John. I bid you goodnight." He offered his arm to the beautiful brown woman and left with her. Sherlock and John were now alone in the study.

"What was that?" John asked.

"You know that minor job at the government Mycroft has?" John nodded "It's not that minor." John nodded again, asking questions wouldn't have led to anything. "Let me show you what upstairs looks like." The detective crooned and John knew that he would certainly not visit all the first floor's room. Just one.

… … …

_**Next chapter, sexy time!**_

_**(I'm a teasing bitch)**_


	11. I know

Hello dear readers and reviewers

**Stardancing :** M. is the big bad wolf. Trying to kill John is a really bad idea, trying to scare them both is a really strange thing to do...really, what does he want exactly?

**Boobunny60 :** Watch your mouth young lady ;) I forgive you because you seem to suffer but be careful ! :) (btw loved your last chapter of Child oh child)

**Catindahat **and** Wings-Make-Everything-Better :** Thank you!

**Kakashijewel **and** watergodesskasey :** I promised sexy time, here comes sexy time.

**helenecolin :** I'm not sure, maybe I will write more about Mycroft. If not here, maybe in another story. For now : alone time in a big mansion on it's way.

**Fantasy101 :** I'm flattered :) Thank you :) I'd be happy if you keep reading my stories... please :))

**Sushie-chan :** Yeah! Thanks I like it. Funky Medusa with dancing snakes shaking their booties on disco songs (do snakes have booties? :p)

**Miss Crookshanks :** I'm maybe a little late but can I haz rainbow cakez? (OMG I switched on lol catz mode ….)

So...as I promised, sexy time in this chapter (at last...this is a M rated story after all!).

Please R&R.

**11 – I know**

Just as he thought, John didn't see much of the first floor since Sherlock was holding him close and kissing him as if his life depended on it. They crossed the corridor until John's back hit the wall at the end of it. Sherlock was already unbuttoning the doctor's shirt.

"Sherlock," John whispered "maybe we should go to your room."

"Easy." Sherlock put his arm around John's waist and pulled him to his chest. With his other hand he found the closest doorknob and opened the door that was there. "Here we are." He said making John walk backward, his mouth hovering over the doctor's. He took the blond haired man's lower lip between his teeth and licked it.

"John, I love you, I want you..." He said moving his lips to John's neck.

"I want you too, Sherlock." John moaned as he felt the detective's tongue running on his neck's skin from his jawline to his collarbone. "It's just..." Sherlock bit lightly "can we please do this slow, it's just..."

"Anything you want my love." John moaned again, the detective was kissing and licking his chest. "You want me to do things to you? Or...maybe you want to do things to me?"

"No." John sighed. Sherlock stopped kissing the blond haired man's chest and stood straight in front of him, he looked distressed "No, no, no, Sherlock, I want you, I really do, it's just that I can't use my left arm properly and..." the doctor blushed "I've never been with a man before and even if I know what arouses me I'm not sure to know what arouses you..." Sherlock grinned.

"You told me you wanted to make me come screaming your name, what if we start with _you_, screaming _mine_?" The detective whispered in John's ear and the man shivered from head to toes.

"I think...Oh God!" Sherlock was now lightly stroking John's cock through the fabric of his pants, his mouth back to the doctor's chest.

"You think...?" Sherlock flicked his tongues on John's nipple.

"No...not anymore..." John panted.

"Good!" The detective kneeled in front of the man he loved. He opened his belt and licked his own lips then he pulled the pants down. John looked at him, following every move he made. When the detective put his thumbs under his underwear's elastic, he gasped, when he pulled it down, releasing his throbbing cock, he moaned.

Sherlock got closer to John and took a peak of is face, he looked absolutely beautiful. The detective bent his head and ran his tongue along John's sex. The doctor sighed and put his right hand on the detective's shoulder. Sherlock did it again and again then took it in his mouth.

"Oh Sh...Oh..."

Sherlock fondled John's balls with his right hand while wrapping the left one around his cock.

"Sherlock..." John had his knees like jelly and was about to collapse. Sherlock set the doctor free. He got up and rolled his arms around the blond haired man's waist pulling him close again.

"What is it love?" He teased, a smile on his lips.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Oh yes, as much as you do." He crooned leading them in the room. John stumbled on his pants which were still wind around his ankles and fell. Hopefully they were close to the bed's edge and since Sherlock was still holding his lover's waist, they both fell on the sheets.  
>"This is lacking grace" John chuckled.<p>

"Let me help you..." Sherlock said while completely stripping the man from his clothes. "Where were we?" He asked bending his head and kissing John's belly. "Oh! Somewhere around here" He put his hands between John's thighs and parted his legs. He knelt there and took John's cock back in his mouth. John discovered that Sherlock was really (really!) skilled with his tongue as the detective licked and teased him with it.

"Ah, Sherlock, it feels so good..." He managed to say between two loud moans. His right hand grabbed the headboard, tightly griping it. "Sherlock...".

The detective kept on licking and teasing, his head moving back and forth faster and faster.

"Sherlock...I...can't..."

Sherlock let one of his perfect hands run along John's ribcage. It stopped when it found a nipple and pinched it.

"Oh fuck!" The doctor shouted. He was really close. He could feel Sherlock's hands, Sherlock's lips and more than that Sherlock's tongue on him. He rocked his hips then everything turned blank as he shouted Sherlock's name and let the orgasm take control of him.

After a minute or two during which Sherlock watched his lover's face returning to a more peaceful expression, he crawled up John's body and kissed him.

"Are you all right my love?"

"Yes, I'm more than fine." He kissed the brown haired man's lips again.

"Is it what I taste like?"

"Yes."

"Do you like it? I mean, you didn't do this just because you thought it would please me?"

"I thought you knew me better, John" Sherlock smiled.

"This is a whole new area..."

"I like it."

John felt his man's hard cock on his thigh.

"You..." John said shyly.

"Your face, your scream, your delicate skin on my mouth, all this aroused me but I won't ask you to do anything you're not ready for. Don't worry, I can handle myself."

"Well...If you need a hand." Sherlock grinned and rolled on his back taking John with him.

"Let me show you how I like to be touched." He crooned. He took John's hand and put it on his hardness. He moved it up and down slowly.

John kissed his lover's mouth and opened his fly insinuating his hand into Sherlock's pants. He kept on stroking through the thin fabric of his underwear.

"Am I doing well?" He asked on the soft lips of the brown haired man.

"You are a fast learner, my love. I'm still a little too dressed, aren't I?"

"Undress now!" John said then realised he gave Sherlock an order "Please?" He added and the detective smiled. He pushed his trousers along his white legs and kicked them to the floor. He took John's hand and slid it under his underwear's elastic.

"Touch me, John." That was an order too.

John wrapped his hand around Sherlock's fully erected cock and moved it slowly. The detective inhale sharply. The doctor wanted to see what he was doing he wanted to see his hand moving on Sherlock's length.

"Pull your shorts down!" The detective obeyed with a really slow motion. Finally he freed himself and John could see what he was doing to the man under him. He was mesmerized by it, by his hand slowly pumping, by Sherlock's twitching cock.

Sherlock was watching his lover's face, trying to decipher his emotions, wanting to know if he liked what he was doing, what he saw, then suddenly John quicken his pace and Sherlock closed his eyes and moaned, his hands turned into fists, he wanted to grab John's hair but didn't want to scare him. When he opened his eyes John was leaning over his chest, he bent down and flicked the tip of his tongue on Sherlock's right nipple drawing a moan out of the detective's throat. He bit it and obtained the same result. He did it again alternatively licking and biting while his hand thrust harder. He run is thumb over the tip of the brown haired man's cock and, this time, the detective couldn't help grabbing John's hair. This didn't deter John, in fact it encouraged him to bit harder and move faster. And faster. And faster.

"John...John..." Sherlock growled.

John left Sherlock's nipple for his lips. He kissed hard and stuck his tongue in his man's mouth shutting him up. The detective's right hand was still in John's hair, he put the left one on his lover's hip and moaned in his mouth.

John moved his hand that little faster and Sherlock whimpered in unison with each thrust. Finally he arched his back and came, his body violently shaking.

John released Sherlock's mouth to let him breath and the detective gasped.

"I love you..." He whispered while moving his hand from John's hair to his cheek.

"I know." The doctor gave Sherlock a quick kiss then smiled. He released the detective's cock from his hand and grabbed the box of tissues that was on the bedside table. He cleaned them both and, finally collapsed on Sherlock's side. The detective lazily put his arm around the doctor's waist and the doctor moved to allow the other man to rest his head on his shoulder, what he promptly did.

Soon they both fell asleep.

… … …

_More sexy time on the next chapter (only if you review...Funky Bitchy Medusa)_


	12. Shame and shyness

Hello dear readers and reviewers

**PrettyLittleScars, Deviously Ruined Rose** and **helenecolin** : Well...if you ask... :p**  
>Sushie-chan<strong> : ooooooowww, should I call myself funky bitchy georgeous awesome Medusa...I think it's just a little two much (but you can call me that if you want, I will have to rent a bigger flat for me and my ego :p) anyway thank you very much, it's kind of you :)**  
>Boobunny60<strong> : Oh no, I don't want you to suffer (okay maybe a little because I'm an absolute dominatrix but hush it's a secret). Thank you for your review and keep on writing! (it's an order)**  
>Stardancing<strong> : I could say I love needy Sherlock and bossy John but I also love bossy Sherlock and needy John... I just can't choose, and well I'm okay with that because they both have strong personalities.**  
>Real or not<strong> : thanks :)**  
>watergoddesskasey<strong> : as I said, both and none, I'd say it depends of the context (and the chapter). For the moment John is quite shy :)**  
>Miss Crookshanks <strong>: hey! Thanks! A keg? I will have to share (and the cakes too!)

All right, I promised more sexy time so here it comes.

**12 - Shame and shyness**

John woke up at 4am it took him a second or two to remember where he was and who was holding him. Who he was holding back. He looked up and, in the dim light, saw Sherlock's face. He looked so peaceful and beautiful. He couldn't help but kiss his jawline then his neck. Sherlock opened his eyes but didn't move, curious to see what would the doctor do next. The detective exhale slowly as he felt John's tongue running it's way up his neck, he gasped when he nibbled his earlobe.

"Awake?" John whispered in Sherlock's ear.

"Yeah..." The detective sighed in answer.

"Am I bothering you?" The doctor kissed lightly his lover's lips.

"No..." John crawled up Sherlock's body and deepened the kiss. He sucked his lover's tongue lazily. The detective's hand run along John's spine.

"John," Sherlock sighed when the doctor broke the kiss "you seem to feel at ease with what we are doing."

"Sherlock, I came in your mouth tonight and I stuck my tongue in yours while I made you come with my hand. I think we are beyond shame and shyness."

The detective rolled them on the bed and pinned John to the mattress.

"John," he started but been cut of by John's face, he was muffling a scream "John? Am I hurting you?" He moved to the doctor's side and put his hand on his lover's cheek "I'm sorry..."

"It's all right Sherlock, I just forgot my bruises, it seems they didn't forget me." The doctor smiled. "Come here," he opened his arms and the detective carefully laid on his side, his head on his lover's shoulder "it seems _rough sex_ isn't for tonight" John chuckled.

"John, don't mock me." The detective said with a frown.

"I'm not mocking you, Sherlock." John said locking eyes with his lover.

Sherlock leaned closer and kissed the doctor with all the passion he was capable of, which means a lot. When they finally parted Sherlock put his mouth on John's ear.

"You're quite bossy in bed." He whispered.

"I'll be as bossy as you'll let me be."

"You don't know what you are signing for." Sherlock licked John's ear.

"Neither do you." The doctor run his hand along his lover's spine scratching lightly. Sherlock growled and gave John another toe curling kiss.

The detective crawled down the blond haired man's body. They were both hard again. Sherlock skipped the teasing and engulfed his lover's cock in his mouth sucking hard. John's right hand turned into fist in the detective's hair tugging hard but Sherlock kept going gripping John's hips and soon the doctor came hard with a loud moan.

"Sherlock..." John was breathless "what do you do to me..."

The detective sat astride John's legs and bent over to kiss him. He took the doctor's hand and put it on his throbbing cock entwining their fingers and stroking roughly.

"Make me come, John." He bit his lover's neck "I want to mark you." He bit again "You are mine."

John stroked faster and put his plaster arm on the back of Sherlock's neck pulling him closer. He kissed him roughly, bit his lips nipped them and stroked, his fingers still entwined with his lover's.

"In my mouth..." John whispered on Sherlock's lips. The detective opened his eyes wide.

"Are you sure?"

"Now!"

Sherlock put his knees on each side of John's waist and grabbed the headboard. The doctor put his right hand on his lover's hip and took him in his mouth. The detective sighed and closed his eyes for a second. John run his tongue on the tip of Sherlock's cock.

"Oh...Fuck...John..."

John grabbed Sherlock's length in his hand and stroked again then he licked his lover's balls.

"John..."

Sherlock's cock twitched and John licked it's tip again. The detective's hands gripped the headboard tighter.

"You want to come?"

"Yes, yes, yes, John please..."

The detective licked, his tongue darting faster on Sherlock's cock tip while he moved his hand faster.

"John, John, JOHN..."

Sherlock promptly moved back as he came and his sperm spread on his lover's chest. He sat on John's lap and bent to kiss him greedily.

"John, that was wonderful."

"For a first, I think I did well."

The detective kissed him again.

"As far as I don't want to spoil the moment, I need a tissue, right now."

Sherlock laughed.

… … ...

John fell asleep in his lover's arms.

Sherlock stayed awake amazed by what just happened and the way their lives changed in such a short time. Even with Moriarty on the loose and targeting them he was happy, happier as he's ever been.

He held John closer and closed his eyes inhaling his lover's sent, He didn't know he could have such thoughts but he wanted this to last forever. Him and John forever.

… … …

The doctor opened his eyes somewhere around noon, he was alone in the queen size bed. He rubbed his face with his right hand and sighed. He sat straighter and looked around the place.

"Sherlock?" He croaked then cleared his throat. The bedroom's door opened and Sherlock came in.

"John, you're awake." He crossed the room in three long steps and sat on the bed "Did you sleep well?" He asked stroking the doctor's cheek.

"Yes." John smiled shyly. In spite of the heavy curtains, John was aware it was midday and the room bathed in diffuse light seemed so different that what it was when they first came in, and he felt so different than the night before that an intrusive embarrassment filled his mind.

"What is it John?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"I thought you said we were beyond shame and shyness." He stroked his lover's cheek with his thumb again. John leaned closer and kissed the detective's lips lightly.

"I'm not accustomed to feel like I do right now. Awaking with the need of having you in my arms. Saying your name first word in the morning. I'm not ashamed, it's just that it feels new and, sorry to say it out loud, a little scary."

"John," Sherlock laid on the bed at his lover's side "hold me close, my love." And so John did.

Later, after showering and changing into clean clothes, they went downstairs. John was absolutely starving. They entered the dining room and found Mycroft and Anthea sitting at the table. Sherlock's brother was drinking tea and reading the newspapers while Anthea was, as usual, tipping on her blackberry.

"Hello brother," Mycroft smiled obsequiously "John," he nodded and his eyes got caught by the hickey the doctor was wearing on his neck, "did you sleep well?" John's cheeks turned red while Sherlock gave his brother a reproachful look. "Please sit down." The smiling man said gesturing to the chairs that were opposite him on the other side of the table. "You must be starving."

John sat in front of Anthea and Sherlock in front of his brother. The brown woman rip her eyes off her blackberry and gave a frank smile to John, it seemed really off. Obviously everybody was absolutely ill at ease (except Mycroft who looked his usual self and Sherlock who looked more furious than anything).

"Well okay, if we are to stay here for a week maybe we should clarify things a little." John said and everybody's looks turned to him, the little blond man turned a darker shade of red. "Since you heard us on the car yesterday, you know exactly what is happening between your brother and I. No need for innuendoes. I'm quite sure you heard us, if not, be warn we will make some noise on the next nights. I think I've been clear enough. And yes, you are right, I'm absolutely starving."

"We will ask Penelope to move your belongings to my brother's bedroom, it will be more comfortable for you. Do I have to ask the maid to bring your lunch?" Mycroft asked his voice as steady as always.

"This would be great thank you." The doctor answered as if nothing special happened. Sherlock leaned closer and brushed John's lips with his own. The blond haired man put his hand on his lover's neck and kissed him properly. When they looked back to the other side of the table, Mycroft and Anthea were reading their newspapers and blackberry again.

"That was damn sexy..." Sherlock whispered in his lover's ear while stroking his thigh under the table. "Why didn't we hear the explosion?" Sherlock asked his brother. Mycroft put his newspaper down.

"The bomb was a fake."

"No it wasn't, I saw it!"

"It just couldn't explode, the wires weren't connected to the detonator."

"It's insane, why?"

"I think Moriarty wanted to scare you."

Sherlock frowned, he was quite furious, he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms.

"Why would he do such a thing?" He asked to himself.

The maid came in with a tray full of food she put on the table. Mycroft came back to his reading.

"All right..." John whispered "this will be a pleasant week..." He helped himself with food. "Sherlock eat something."

The detective moved his hand chasing away his lover's words.

"Sherlock," he grabbed the detective's wrist until the man looked at him "eat something." He pushed a plate in front of Sherlock "Please." He put a fork in his lover's hand. "Please."

The brown haired man sighed but put a mushroom on his fork and ate it.

Behind his paper, Mycroft smiled.

… … …

_For more sexy times REVIEW! ;)  
>(Or I'll kill kittens, bunnies - not Boo of course - and eat all the cookies...Funky but bitchy !)<em>


	13. Bruised

Hello readers and reviewers...

**Catindahat :** I love so much courageous/faithful John, I just can't help writing this kind of scene.

**Sushie-chan :** John can wake me every night, I'm more than okay with it. Mycroft a voyeur...hmmmm...I can't say I've never thought about it :)

**watergoddesskasey and Lolita-mist :** Hope you are ready for more :)

**helenecolin :** Moriarty is a mad man or...is he?

**hardcore-muffins :** okay since you ask nicely :)

**Boobunny60 :** I want you alive because I need you to finish your stories! :) Yes, John is more and more comfortable with the physical part of his relationship with Sherlock (and will be even more soon :))

**Real or not :** okay okay okay :p 

More sexy time, funky but not that bitchy in the end... 

**13 - Bruised**

"John, I'm bored."

They were in the television room (yes, the mansion was that large that you had a room for everything). John was watching a stupid show, where people were laughing hysterically all the time while Sherlock was resting his head on his lap.

"You have an amazing library in this house maybe you should try to find a good book to read." The doctor answered.

"I've read them all..."

"Liar!" John smiled.

"That's not what I want to do..."

"And what do you want to do Sherlock?" John teased, he wasn't that stupid that he didn't know what was in Sherlock's mind.

"Do they still hurt?"

"What?"

"Your bruises, do they still hurt?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Tell me."

"What, Sherlock?"

"What you would do to me if you weren't that bruised."

"Well..." John coughed "I'd...run my hand through your hair." He let his fingers run on Sherlock's scalp "I'd lightly graze the back of your head..." The detective turned his head to allow the doctor to do so. "Slide my fingers along your neck and under your shirt..." Sherlock opened his shirt buttons one by one "and pinch your nipples..." The brown haired man sighed and caught John's wrist. He sat on the sofa then leaned over, his lips close to his lover's, but he didn't kiss him. He sat astride John's lap and rest his lover's hand where it had been a minute before, on his chest.

"And then?" He whispered and his upper lip slightly brushed John's.

"Then I'd stoke your belly while..." He bent his head "I'd lick you neck and tease you with my tongue".

"Yes..."

"And since you marked me..." He bit Sherlock's neck and sucked "I'm going to mark you too...twice." He bit again.

"I'd run my hands along your spine...up...and down...then I'd put my hands on your arse and pulled you closer." John sat straighter. "And claim your mouth as if we've never kissed before." He kissed his lover lightly at first then less shyly and then with passion. Sherlock couldn't help but rock his hips a little.

"And then?" Sherlock gasped as he put his hands on the doctor's hips and made them move at the same rhythm rubbing their bodies together.

"I think, at this point, hard ons are on the menu..."

"Yes..."

"What should I do about that?"

"Maybe _I_ should do something about that, touch it, stroke it, lick it..." he moved faster "lubricate it and help you slide inside me." He run his tongue along John's neck "Would you like that?" He whispered in the doctor's ear.

"Mmmm, yes...I'd...love that..." John panted "I'd thrust...inside...you" he punctuated his telling with short movements of his hips "I'd thrust... deep and slow..." He secured Sherlock's position on his crotch and thrust "at first...then..." John could hear Sherlock's breathing accelerate "faster..." the detective grabbed John's hips and closed his eyes "making you moan..."

The detective put his mouth on John's ear "you're going to...make me...come in my pants."

"Oh yes!" He grabbed the brown haired man's waist and thrust sharply "Sherlock! Fuck...Sherlock!"

"John!" Sherlock rubbed his lower body on John's crotch. The detective nibbled John's neck as they both came with loud moans.

They stayed like that a minute or two.

"Are you sure you're still bruised." Sherlock crooned in his lover's ear.

"I suddenly feel much better." The doctor grabbed the back of Sherlock's neck and kissed him roughly. "Right now I think I need to take a shower and change clothes." He said when they both started to breath normally again then laughed lightly.

"John I love you so much, it kills me."

"Oh no Sherlock, I need you alive." He locked eyes with his lover "I need you."

Sherlock growled and kissed John's mouth feverishly.

… … …

_Where are you? I need your help. Please. GL_

Sherlock frowned while reading his text message.

"What is it Sherlock?" John asked his lover when he felt he stopped stroking his arm. They were sitting on one of the sofas on the study, Sherlock's arm around John's shoulders, they were reading newspapers.

"I just received a text from Lestrade but..."

"But?"

"I don't know..."

"Something important? Something strange?"

"I'd say, something worrying."

Sherlock started typing on his phone.

"Who are you texting to?"

"Mycroft."

"Sherlock we are in the same building."

"He is not at scream range."

"What is the emergency?"

"It's not Lestrade's style to ask where I am and beg me like that. I want to be sure he really texted me."

"You could text back."

"John, the mansion is kind of protected, Mycroft's car too. Our phones cannot be traced. If someone , if Moriarty, is trying to trick me into responding to Lestrade's phone to know where we are, not being able to trace my phone could alarm him. I can't answer."

"So what did you ask to your brother?"

Sherlock's phone chimed.

"I asked him to check on Lestrade." He read his new text message "He is not home, not at the Yard..."

"That was quick..." Sherlock gave a glare at his man and John sighed "Okay so what now?"

"Nothing, we wait for the next move."

"It could be anything..."

"If it were otherwise where would be the fun?"

"Sherlock, Lestrade could be in danger."

"I know, John, but what else could we do now?"

"You're right, I know you're right..." John sighed again. He hated being that powerless.

Sherlock cupped his lover's cheek and leaned closer.

"I'm going to solve this, _we're_ going to solve this, and who knows, maybe I'm wrong, maybe Lestrade's at the pub or dining somewhere..."

"Can you just not try to reassure me, it's just absolutely off coming from you..." John smiled a little.

"All right" Sherlock kissed his man's lips and made him forget his worries for a minute or...five.

… … …

"What are you going to do?" John asked to Mycroft. They were sitting at the table on the amazingly oversized dining room.

"I have someone on Lestrade's case, I expect some news soon."

"Lestrade is not a case, he is a man and a friend, well...sort of." Mycroft looked at John in silence for a moment, and the doctor glared back, he wouldn't let the man as powerful as he could be, silence him.

"I assure you, I'll let you know as soon as I have information. Trust me if your friend is in danger and I'm able to do something, anything, to help, I will."

Sherlock looked at the two men alternatively, surely he was amazed. He could recognise a fake surrender of his brother and that wasn't one. John really touched his brother and that was something.

"All right." John said grabbing his fork and hammering his salad with it (right hand plus a little anger).

Saying that the atmosphere at the diner suffered from John and Mycroft's conversation was an euphemism even if the older Holmes tried to small talk a little and Anthea smiled, a lot.

After the desert, Mycroft got up "Anthea and I have work to do, have a nice evening and a good night."

Anthea walked around the table. She silently put something on the table in front of John and winked at him. John looked down and opened his eyes wide. He turned to say something to the woman but she was already out of the room, instead his eyes met Sherlock's.

"I didn't know Mycroft had a thing for handcuffs." John said and Sherlock chuckled "Does it run in the family?" He added and Sherlock stopped smiling.

"That's a thing you should investigate." the baritone said.

"Oh, I will." John put his hand behind Sherlock's neck and pulled him down for a deep and lazy kiss.

… … …

_If you want John to investigate...well...REVIEW! :)_

_Thanks!_


	14. I love you more

Hello readers and reviewers,

**Boobunny60 :** Hope I will have a lot of stories in mind :p (and you too!)**  
>psycheadrenaline :<strong> Thank you very much! I know my english is not that good, but at least I try :p**  
>Sushie-chan :<strong> Ooooh la mauvaise foi :p I spent 13 chapters building a story with a plot, okay, it's a rated M story but Lestrade is no pretext, he is part of the big plot (at least as big as I can do :p). But be happy the next chapter is sex sex sex (enjoy :p)**  
>Lolita-mist :<strong> ah ah ah, maybe not grill him, just throw him on **watergoddesskasey** and let her slice him (since she's fanning herself)...anyway, you won't have to do that ;)**  
>helencolin :<strong> thanks *^^***  
>hardcore-muffins<strong> and **Operamaniac :** investigation it is!

Okay, so, hum, sexy time, hum, again...

**Chapter 14 – I love you more**

"So what now?" Sherlock asked on his lover's lips. They were on the bed, shirtless and John was sitting astride the detective's legs. He kissed his lover then licked it's way along his jawline to his earlobe.

"What if..." he whispered in his lover's ear "what if we used Anthea's gift?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

John grabbed the shiny pair of handcuffs and opened them, checking the locks. He circled Sherlock left wrist with the first one, slowly lay his arms above his head then bent to give him a languorous and most arousing kiss during which he circled Sherlock's right wrist. When John broke the kiss, Sherlock was handcuffed to the headboard.

"Do you want to keep the key?"

"No, I trust you."

John put the key on the bedside table then came back to his lover's ear.

"What can I do to you?" He whispered.

"Anything, my love."

"All right." John bent his head and bit Sherlock's neck sharply and the detective let out a cry of surprise. The doctor licked the skin he had bitten and let his tongue slid down to his lover's collarbone. Then he sat back on his lover's lap and watched him, his face, his lips, his neck, his chest, his belly where he finally rest his hand. He kept still. He wanted to etch every muscle, every bones, every millimetre of skin in his memory, he wanted to be able to remember everything when his lover was away. But Sherlock was here now, patiently waiting for his lover's next move, giving himself fully and completely to the man he loved. The doctor set himself in motion again what he just saw wasn't enough he needed his lover naked, he needed to possess him. No more excuses, no more bruises. He crawled down Sherlock's body and apply himself to strip the dark haired man from his pants and shorts then he kneeled between the long while legs.

"Beyond shame and shyness?" John asked.

"Beyond shame and shyness."

Then the doctor bent down and pushed his right hand into Sherlock's mass of curls tugging a little. He locked eyes with his lover.

"I love you." John said loud and clear before ravishing his lover's lips. Sherlock surrounded John's waist with his legs and arched his back to allow as much contact as possible. John sucked Sherlock's tongue while rolling his hips and a deep sound escaped from the detective's throat.

"Say it again." The detective begged breathlessly when the doctor released his mouth.

"I love you, Sherlock," he kissed his lover's throat "I," a kiss "love," a kiss "you." Another kiss to help the words sink in his lover's mind, heart and skin "Let me caress you, please you, I want you Sherlock." He moved his hips again "Let me make love to you..." he moved his hand to his lover's cheek and give him a look full of love and longing "please."

Sherlock freed John's waist from his legs and the doctor crawled down the brown haired man's body kissing here and there. When he took his lover's cock in his mouth the detective spread his legs wider. John sucked teasingly for a moment then moved down to lick Sherlock's balls. The brown haired man gasped and grabbed the headboard.

John put his plastered arm under Sherlock's arse lifting him up then run the tip of his tongue on the soft skin drawing lines and circles with his saliva. Then he rested his hand on Sherlock's thigh, he needed his lover to spread his legs even wider. The detective understood what his man wanted and did as he was silently told. John's tongue ran along Sherlock's inner thigh then, finally, between the cleft of his lover's buttocks darting deeper and deeper.

"John..." Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes.

John sucked one of his fingers and pushed it slowly inside Sherlock.

"John..." The detective gasped and the doctor pushed a little further easing his finger's way with his saliva.

"I'm afraid this won't be enough." John said.

"Bedside table. Top drawer..."

.

John spread lubricant on his middle finger and pushed it slowly in his lover, after a moment he added a second one, when he felt his lover relaxing around them he removed them and positioned his fully erected cock at his man's entrance.

"John please..."

John pushed slowly but didn't stop until he was fully inside Sherlock then slid out as slowly. He did that several times and shivered all over, holding back was really hard but he wanted their first time to last and he wanted to bring his lover as much pleasure as he could.

Seems like pleasure was what Sherlock was feeling right now because his lover finally overcame his last fears and initiated full sex but beyond everything because he told him he loved him. Sherlock's heart was screaming John's name, his veins were fed with John's presence and his brain was only able to analyse the level of pleasure John's lips, hand and cock gave him. He was all John. John was sliding in and out his body, carefully, lovingly but agonisingly slow, brushing the most pleasurable place of his anatomy lightly each time and he needed more.

"Faster John, please!" He screamed and the doctor increased his pace, happy to obey this order. But there was something he wanted Sherlock to do for him.

"Kneel, kneel on all four." The doctor gave his own order and the tied man moved on the bed and offered his arse to his lover's view. John licked it again then suddenly he was back inside thrusting hard. The brown haired man was at the perfect height and with that angle, it was a matter of minutes now. The detective grabbed the headboard tightly and the handcuffs jingled. With each thrust a deep sound escaped from his throat.

"Are you...okay?" John panted.

"Yes!" A low growl.

John's hand reached out for Sherlock's length and started stroking. Hand and thighs moved faster and the doctor moaned loudly.

"Come...come, my love..." The detective managed to say between two moans.

"You first..."John answered through clenched teeth and he stroked hard. Sherlock whimpered as he came his body shaken by violent spasms. The doctor thrust three or four more times before following in bliss shouting his lover's name and collapsing on the long white body.

"Oh my...Sherlock..." He said pulling out of his lover's body and helping him turn around to lie on his back. He lay down along Sherlock's side and kissed him softly. "Was it...?" The doctor started tentatively.

"Perfect?"

"Well, I was thinking of 'ok'." John smiled.

"You said you loved me. That made it perfect."

"I said it because I do," he snuggled up to Sherlock and looked up at his face "I love you, Sherlock."

"I love you more."

"If you say so." John run his tongue along Sherlock's jawline.

"Would you be kind and free me from these." The detective nodded on the handcuffs direction.

"I don't know, I kind of like having you at my mercy." The doctor licked his lover's lower lip "Maybe I should restrain your legs too."

"I love when you talk about your kinky ideas, any other fantasies you'd like to share?"

"Oh yes, a lot!"

"Good!" Sherlock smiled "I have a few myself."

"Of that I'm sure."

As much as John wanted to hear what Sherlock's fantasies were made of, he also wanted to sleep (at least a little) in his arms so he took the key on the bedside table and opened the handcuffs. He rubbed his lover's arms to allow the blood to run on his veins.

"My god, Sherlock...Look at your wrists...You should have told me...I'm sorry..." The detectives wrist were all red and rubbed raw where the handcuffs were.

"Don't apologise my love, you didn't do anything wrong, it seems I pulled on them a little to hard." Sherlock smiled when John kissed the bruises.

"Maybe next time we should choose a safe word or, I don't know, use fury handcuffs."

"You'll have to choose he alternative since next time _I_ handcuff _you_."

"Well this will have to wait." John chuckled showing his plastered arm.

Sherlock grabbed John's waist and rolled him over on the bed kissing him deep and slow.

"We'll find something else." The detective put his head on John's shoulder and threw a leg across his lover's in a possessive gesture.

They were fast asleep when a long and black shadow opened the bedroom's door and slid inside. The dim light got caught by something in the shadow's hand. A long blade.

… … …

_Oh I lied, not just sexy time but a little cliffhanger...ooops_


	15. The Shadow

Hello readers and reviewers!

**anksenamoon :** Rah la la d'aussi loin que j'adorerais venir du pays de Shakespeare, je viens plutôt de celui de Molière (dont je torture beaucoup moins la langue mon anglais étant loins d'être parfait j'en ai peur :)) Merci pour ta gentille review qui me fait chaud au coeur.**  
>helenecolin :<strong> Yeeeeeeeees a cliff :) be happy this time no cliff at least not that sort of cliff :)**  
>hardcore-muffins :<strong> seems that you have, like me, a problem for writing correctly the word 'furry' :p :p Congratulation it gives you the right to choose the colour of the furry handcuffs (maybe I'll use them somewhere in the story :p)...Now imagine which colour would suit better to a naked John :p**  
>Boobunny60 :<strong> Cruelty, remember? :p**  
>watergoddesskasey :<strong> I love how you can call me evil then say you love it...interesting :p**  
>thisisforyou :<strong> You asked the right question! Happy you did it! Plot plot plot! Thanks!**  
>TheScienceODeduction, Catindahat, OntheWinterSolstice and PrettyLittleScars <strong>: I try to update two times a week (sometimes more, sometimes less) so here comes the next chapter :) Hope you'll like it.

I love torturing you with my little cliffhangers (bitchy bitchy me!). Here comes the new chapter, less sex, more plot (sex will come back soon don't worry :p). This chapter is dedicated to those who love Mycroft (hope you'll like how I wrote the character).

**Chapter 15 – The shadow**

_They were fast asleep when a long and black shadow opened the bedroom's door and slid inside. The dim light got caught by something in the shadow's hand. A long blade._

The shadow was walking slowly, seems like it was trying not to walk or bump on something. But it most certainly came closer to the bed, the sharpen long blade catching the light with every move of it's owner like a little death star shinning in the night. It took almost a minute to the shadow to turn around the bed and stand on Sherlock's side. The shadow raised the blade and was about to stab the detective's chest when, in a blur of fast movement several things happened simultaneously.

John opened his eyes, the soldier in him, the one with the light sleep, told him something was wrong. His eyes confirmed the feeling. He didn't move though, he needed to collect data about the shadow that was almost silently sliding in the room. Obviously it was holding a long army knife and was wearing a camouflage uniform (a black one), according to the soldier's book that man must wear another knife at his left ankle (he was obviously right handed) and maybe a gun at his belt. The man's walk, for it obviously wasn't a woman and surely not a ghost, suggested he had no other equipment. When the man stopped about to stab John's lover, the ex soldier pushed his right hand under his pillow and grabbed the gun he had hidden there then threw himself across Sherlock's body and shot the man in the right arm.

The shadow screamed and staggered.

"Sherlock don't move!" The ex soldier ordered.

When the shadow tried to reach for the gun at it's belt with it's left hand, John fired a second time. The bullet went through the shadow's hand and a second scream ripped the night. John jumped out of the bed and went closer to the shadow. The man had fallen on the floor moaning and crying. John took the two knives and the gun and gave them to the detective.

"Give me the handcuffs." He asked his lover. Sherlock grabbed the handcuffs and slid out of the bed. John tied the man to the old radiator under the window and turned to face the man he loved.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock nodded and John held him in a close embrace.

The bedroom door opened noisily and two guards entered followed by Mycroft and Anthea. The two guards aimed the shadow (not that he was necessary) and the older Holmes turned to the two men still joined in a close embrace and still naked.

"What happened, are you all right? Sherlock? John?" Mycroft taking a step closer.

"We are all right." Sherlock said in a low voice.

"Who is this man?" Mycroft gestured in the two guards direction and one of them reached for the shadow's hood pulling it out.

"It's Harrison." The first guard said.

"Harrison?"

"Yes sir, he works on the day shift."

"This is one of the mansion's guard?" Mycroft's usual patience was breaking into small pieces right now and his usual affable expression turned into a rather irascible one. He turned back to the two lovers which were now slipping inside dressing gowns.

"What happened? John?"

"That man came in the room with an army knife, he wanted to stab Sherlock. I shot him, twice."

Mycroft turned to the man. "Why did you try to kill my brother? Who sent you?" He shouted. The man didn't answered and Mycroft cross the distance between them and kneeled in front of the man. "Who?" The shadow didn't answered. The older Holmes put his hand on Harrison's throat and squeezed "Who?" The man screamed and Mycroft squeezed a little more.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted "Mycroft, that's enough!" The younger Holmes put his hands on his brother's shoulder and the man turned his head. Suddenly conscious he was torturing an injured man he released Harrison's throat and stood up. A strange silence fell in the room. Anthea took a step closer to Mycroft and put her hand on his arm and suddenly the affable expression came back on his face. John shivered something in Mycroft's look was absolutely terrifying and he suddenly understood how lethal the man could be.

"Who sent you?" Sherlock asked again.

The man moved his legs and moaned in pain, his eyes rolled in their sockets.

"You...didn't answer...the text message..." He said before passing out.

"Take him away before he bleeds to death on the floor." Mycroft said coldly to the two guards. John gave them the handcuffs key and soon the man was dragged out of the room.

"That's madness." John whispered.

"No, that's genius." Sherlock whispered back "Moriarty is everywhere, he wanted to prove it. The fact I didn't answered 'Lestrade's' text proved him I knew he was behind it and he put his infiltrated man in motion. How long has this man been working here?"

"A year and a half." Anthea said reading the answer on her BlackBerry.

"Those men are trained soldiers not mercenaries, that shouldn't happen." Mycroft hissed.

"As I said Moriarty is everywhere. And he has been planning that for a really long time."

Sherlock turned to John. "Are you all right?" He asked cupping his right cheek.

"I'm okay Sherlock." The doctor answered putting his hand around Sherlock's wrist and stroking it with his thumb. "Seems like learning to shoot with my right hand was the best idea I ever had." He took a peak at the pool of blood under the radiator. "What are you going to do with him?" He asked Mycroft.

"I'm taking care of him." John frowned "I mean, we're going to look after him, treat his injuries, and, then, ask him who he was taking his orders from." Mycroft smiled. That man was absolutely scary.

"I don't think this will lead to anything." Sherlock added "Any news from Lestrade?"

"No, absolutely none."

"Can you check on someone for me?"

"Sure."

"Find anything you can about a woman called Linda, she's a police officer from Cardiff, a...friend...of Lestrade. She pretended to write a criminology thesis. She talked about an interview with professor Lewis" Sherlock frowned "I don't know her last name we first met her the day John was hit by the car and the very next day in Lestrade's office."

"I'll see what I can find." Mycroft looked at Anthea and the woman nodded sharply. "Are you sure you are both all right?" His voice soften a little.

"I'm all right." Sherlock sighed.

"I'm fine." John added.

"Thank you, John." The older Holmes said and those three words spoke volumes to John.

Mycroft put his hand on the small of Anthea's back and they went out closing the door behind them.

"Is that all?" John frowned.

"No it's not all, Mycroft is going to check the past of all the soldiers working in the mansion and maybe ask for the replacement of most of them. And of course check Harrison's. He is really pissed right now."

"Yes, I saw that."

"What you saw is the submerged part of the iceberg." Sherlock took a step closer to his lover "John..." his voice soften "I..."

John crossed the distance between them and gave his man a passionate kiss.

"I won't let anybody hurt you. As far as I can I will protect you. I wish...I wish..."

"Yes, it will be enough." Sherlock found John's mouth again, their tongues duelled and they moaned loudly. The detective pushed John on the bed and opened his dressing gown. He was teasingly licking John's belly when the doctor stopped him.

"Sherlock, Sherlock I'm sorry but," he gave a glare at the covers they were stained with brown red splatters "not here, please."

The detective helped his lover get up. "Come with me my love." He whispered in John's ear.

… … …

_No cliffy this time, if you love that...Review!  
>Thanks!<em>

_(a little opinion pool : Would you like me to write a sexy chapter about Mycroft and Anthea or should I keep that for another story?)  
><em>


	16. Alive

Hello readers and reviewers !

**watergoddesskasey :** Thanks :)**  
>Lolita-mist :<strong> Well, John+Sherlock and Mycroft+Anthea...Okay let's go^^**  
>Lasenov :<strong> Thanks :) Mycroft+Anthea, that's a first for me, hope you'll like it :)**  
>Boobunny60 :<strong> "OMBunnies!" owww cute! I always imagined Mycroft as a mix of fire and ice so...**  
>Stardancing :<strong> Sorry the plot will wait for the next chapter but don't worry you'll know what M. has in mind (And you're right he is not stupid, he knows exactly what he is doing :p)**  
>helenecolin :<strong> Well since Sherlock doesn't seem to love his brother that much maybe you should ask him if you can borrow him :)**  
>Miss Crookshanks :<strong> What? Being almost killed by a mad man during the night isn't one of your fantasies...I don't understand you :) Thanks for the cakes and fruits!

I wrote this one a little fast, hope my English is not too bad...

**Chapter 16 - Alive**

John was walking backward, his lips glued to Sherlock's who was leading him through the corridor. When they reached the bathroom's door, the detective pushed it open and closed it behind them then undid his lover's dressing gown's belt pushing the light fabric from his shoulders. It fell on the floor with a soft noise they didn't hear because it was covered by a moan coming from John's throat since Sherlock was licking his nipples hungrily.

They escaped death tonight, thanks to John, and Sherlock was so relieved his lover was all right that he wanted to show him how much he loved and needed him. He put his hand on his lover's shoulders and pushed him down to the floor.

… … ...

Mycroft was pacing up and down his office. The man was really troubled by the latest events. Harrison trying to kill his brother in the mansion.

"That man infiltrated my mansion. _My mansion_. He tried to have _my brother_ killed in _my own house_. I'm going to rip Moriarty's throat with my bare hand." He said as his hands turned into fists.

"Sir?" Anthea tried to prevent her boss from consuming himself with angst, but the older Holmes kept on pacing the room "Sir?" She tried again with no result "Mycroft please!" Sherlock's brother stopped walking "Mycroft?" She put her hand on his shoulder and the older Holmes covered it with his own. "You're going to find him, we will sort this out."

"I know." Mycroft's voice was softer as the man was calming himself. He lifted Anthea's hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly then turned around to face the beautiful woman. "You always say the words I need to hear my dear." He cupped her cheek with his free hand.

"I know." She smiled while putting her hands on the man's waist. Mycroft pushed his fingers into her hair and pulled roughly until their lips met on a heated kiss. Anthea pushed her tongue inside the tall man's mouth and the hand in his hair turned into a fist again but this time it wasn't anger that led the gesture. The woman threw her arms around Mycroft's neck and her legs around his waist like a sort of horny octopus. Soon they crossed the room and fell on the leather sofa that was there, Mycroft on top of the Amazon.

… … …

John was panting heavily. Sherlock was sucking hard on his cock.

"Sherlock!" the detective stopped moving for a moment and watched his lover's face, his eyes were shot, his mouth open, he was flushed and his lips were bright red, he was absolutely beautiful. Sherlock bent over John's chest and kissed his neck and his jawline then he took his earlobe between his teeth and bit lightly.

"Do you want to be inside me, my love?" He whispered in his lover's ear.

"Oh God yes!" John whispered back. Sherlock sat astride John's legs and took out the lube bottle from his dressing gown's pocket. He put some on his fingers and run their tip on John's cock teasingly. The detective took his lover's hand, he kissed and licked the palm then slid his tongue between the fingers before putting them in his mouth slowly licking them, one by one.

"Sit my love, I want to watch your face while you make love to me."

John growled and sat on the floor. He grabbed Sherlock arse with both his hands (even the plastered one), pulled his lover closer and gave him a passionate kiss. Sherlock moved and positioned himself over his lover's erected cock.

"Look at me my love." The detective whispered on the doctor's lips and John locked eyes with his lover as he let his hard length slowly slide inside his body.

… … …

Anthea gasped when Mycroft's sharp teeth grazed the skin of her neck. She rested her arms above her head and the tall man moved his lips to her cleavage, greedily licking and kissing the soft white skin between her breasts. He grabbed the collar of her suit jacket and tore it open revealing a black lacy bra. He freed her breasts from their lacy shell and sucked at the right nipple. Anthea closed her eyes and moaned shamelessly. When Mycroft sucked at the left nipple she arched her back and licked her lips. The older Holmes let his hand slide along the beautiful brown woman's ribcage and lower and pulled her skirt up her thighs. She was wearing a pair of black stockings and a black lacy thong, matching with her bra, which was easily rip off of her body. Mycroft kissed his way down her body and reached her inner thighs.

"Anthea." Not a question, not an order, although she knew he wanted her to watch, he always wanted her to watch. She opened her eyes and looked at her lover's face as he kissed her right between her thighs then licked, deep.

… … …

"Oh god, Sherlock!" John pushed his right hand in his lover's black curls and left the other one behind his back pushing him close. The detective was moving slowly allowing his lover's sex to slid up and down in his arse, his own cock rubbing against his man's belly. His ice blue eyes still locked with the doctor's, he was teasingly moving as slow as he could, he knew it wouldn't be long until he begged him to move faster, and frankly he needed it too.

"Sherlock..." John's hand turned into fist in his lover's hair "are you sure you want to play that game?"

"Oh yes, I do."

"All right." John's hand left Sherlock's hair and wrapped itself around the detective's cock "So be it." He roughly stroked Sherlock's sex.

"John!" The detective rested his forehead against his lover's.

"Are you going to move faster now?"

"Yes!" Sherlock increased his pace and they both moaned.

… … …

Anthea was panting now. The pleasure Mycroft was giving her with his mouth was leaving her boneless.

"Anthea, stay with me." He said crawling up her body and kissing her mouth. The brown woman allowed herself to move her hands and unbuckle her lover's belt then open his fly. She pushed it under the fabric of his underwear and grabbed Mycroft's cock.

"That's more like it, isn't it?" She said as she moved her hand up and down her boss' sex.

"Whatever pleases you, pleases me, my dear."

"I want you in me, right now."

Mycroft grabbed Anthea's thighs and pulled her to him lifting her lower body up so his cock was right at her entrance. Then he slowly pushed inside.

… … …

John's thighs were responding to Sherlock's and with each thrust the doctor was burying himself deep in his lover.

"John..." Sherlock was breathless, his cheeks red, his lips even redder since he was biting them hard.

"Sherlock I won't last..."

"So ride me hard now and make us come!"

John pushed Sherlock from his lap and forced him to lay on the floor facing him then he slid back inside and thrust really hard. The detective let out a cry and a growl escaped from the doctor's throat. John moved faster and faster while stroking his lovers cock with his right hand.

"I want you to come now, I want to see your face. Come for me Sherlock."

"John..." Sherlock panted and moaned and suddenly he let out an almost animal scream and came all over his lovers hand and his own belly. Seeing his lover's ecstatic face triggered John's own orgasm and he thrust deep several times emptying himself inside his lover's arse, his mouth open in a silent cry, his eyes still locked with Sherlock's.

… … …

Anthea's was sinking her nails in Mycroft's shoulders skin and her boss rolled his arms around her waist and pulled to make her sit on his lap. The brown woman took the lead imposing her rhythm, the angle, speed and depth imprisoning Mycroft between his thigh.

"Anthea, you are fiendish." Mycroft growled.

"I learned from the devil himself."

"I love it when you pet name me this way...Oh my!" Anthea was rolling her hips and yet keep on moving up and down Mycroft's length. She was almost there.

"Are you ready?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yes, yes, yes..."

She moved faster and finally her whole body shivered as she slid in bliss moaning loudly. She kept on moving and soon Mycroft orgasmed screaming her name before burying his face in her neck.

"Anthea..." He whispered in her hear "Wait until I get the handcuffs back."

"I'm looking forward to it." She whispered back.

The older Holmes pushed his hands in the beautiful woman's hair and looked in her eyes.

"How come you can do this to me?"

"That's my cruse or my blessing." She smiled. He gave her a disarming loving look and kissed her softly. That man could be so tender, behind closed doors.

"Anthea..." He said on her lips.

"I know." She cut him off kissing him tenderly.

… … …

"John?" Sherlock whispered in his lover's ear while lightly stroking his sweaty back. The doctor had collapsed on his man's chest and was now trying to catch his breath.

"Yes..." He whispered catching the detective's eyes.

"You saved my life...again."

"I saved my life too since I can't live without you any more."

Sherlock moaned and kissed John passionately.

"I love you so much!"

"I love you more."

… … …

_So...? Liked it? Hated it? Review?  
>Next chapter : plot!<em>


	17. Someone at the door

Hello beloved readers and reviewers!

**anksenamoon :** Merci merci! Contente que ça te serve à bosser ton anglais :p Bon on passe au chapitre serieux cette fois. Allez plot plot plot!**  
>TheScienceODeduction :<strong> Swiching between the two couples is fun to write indeed, I found writing about Mycroft and Anthea is quite inspiring.**  
>Boobunny60 :<strong> I compared Anthea to an oversized parrot and a horny octopus...Seems like comparing her to an animal is quite natural to me :) Who would you like me to compare with a bunny (not one taken on the headlights)? :p**  
>hardcore-muffins :<strong> All right purple it will be :p Sherlock loves watching and we love watching him watching John, we are such virtual voyeurs :)**  
>Miss Crookshanks :<strong> You naughty girl! (Oh! Rainbow cakes! Thanks)**  
>helecolin :<strong> If you see him say 'hello-I-love-you-raaaaaaaah' for me please... ^^

All right, plot time!

**Chapter 17 – Someone at the door**

Penelope had worked well and when John and Sherlock came back to their room the pool of blood had vanished and the sheets had been changed. They lay on the bed, Sherlock pulled his lover close and they both fell asleep.

On the other wing of the mansion Mycroft and Anthea closed their bedrooms doors. And slept alone.

… … …

"Anything?" Sherlock asked while entering the dining room for a late breakfast.

"Linda Kadesky, born 7th July 1975, divorced, police inspector in Cardiff, working on a criminology thesis, subject : _Psychopaths, geniuses in disguise_." Anthea frowned then kept reading on her BlackBerry "Met DI Lestrade at the uni, been friends since, not lovers. Came to London three weeks ago to have a meeting with Professor Lewis, specialist in behavioural disorders and psycho-morphology. Stay at Martha Sparks' apartment in South Kensington, a friend of hers who currently lives in Australia. But she didn't show up for the last three days."

"Lestrade?" Sherlock poured tea in two mugs and gave one to John who was standing close to the table listening carefully.

"Still nothing, for the moment." Anthea said and Sherlock nodded.

"How come you can find so many informations on Linda and nothing on Lestrade, have you checked CCTV, traced his phone, been to his house?"

Mycroft gave a 'don't think I'm an amateur!' look to John.

"Sorry..."John sighed and sat on a chair "I know you do everything you can but...After what happened last night I think it's quite obvious Moriarty is behind Lestrade's disappearance and...I can't help myself being scared for him." Sherlock put a hand on his thigh and searched his lovers eyes.

"I know you're concerned my love, but we must wait, at least a little longer." The detective said locking eyes with John's.

"If Moriarty abducted Lestrade, why keeping him alive now we know it wasn't him who sent the text?" John said weakly.

"Because it affects you." Sherlock sighed "And because he must think having a hostage is useful."

"What about Harrison?" John turned to Mycroft.

"Harrison is still in no shape to talk. Still, we can say he wasn't drugged. Anthea?"

"Robert Harrison, born 3 December 1984, single, only child, parents dead in a car accident when he was 18, joined the army in 2003, assigned to the manor's security one year and a half ago, service record : faultless." She turned to John "Seems to me that man is a blank page, which means to good to be true."

"Anyway," Mycroft sighed "a new contingent of soldiers will arrive at dusk, we can't risk another surprise like this one, believe me the new comers have been double and triple checked."

Sherlock frowned, something was wrong, but he just couldn't find what

... ... ...

"Sherlock?" John was spooning the detective and running his hand in his curls, gently combing them with his fingers.  
>"Mmmm?"<br>"What are you thinking?"  
>"I was thinking about your face last night, in the bathroom."<br>"I was talking about Lestrade."  
>"It's an obsession, should I be jealous?"<br>"Please, Sherlock, be serious."  
>"I'm absolutely sorry, my love, but since we are locked in this mansion there's nothing we can do about his disappearance."<p>

"This is ridiculous!" John moved away from his lover and sat on the bed's edge. Sherlock sighed and sat next to him. "He is in danger because of us, because of this mad man, who is tracking you. This fucking game you have!"  
>"John..."<br>"Don't John me!" The doctor made a face "Well, you know what I mean! Lestrade is collateral damage, this, John showed the place with his hand, is collateral damage."  
>"I think you are suffering from claustrophobia, John. Maybe you should stop talking right now."<br>"Stop talking, stop thinking but keep on fucking?"  
>"You're unfair."<br>"I need some air." With this words John stormed out the room and Sherlock followed shouting his name.

John needed time for himself, feeling that useless drove him mad. He knew he'd been an arse talking to Sherlock this way but he couldn't help the words spill out of his mouth. He knew as well he wouldn't go far outside of the mansion, especially in the dark but he needed to walk and forget that Sherlock was still following him. He was down the stairs facing the door when it opened suddenly and a man dressed in an elegant black suit appeared in the threshold.

"What the hell?" John shouted stopping abruptly.

"Hello dear, it's so nice to see you again but you shouldn't have gone and met me! Oh! I got it, you missed me! How cute!" Moriarty said in his high pitched voice.

"You bastard!" John said through clenched teeth and dashed in the mad man's direction.

"John!" Sherlock screamed, the doctor turned around and saw a red dot on his lover's forehead. He turned back and watched his own chest where two red dots had appeared.

"Hope you don't mind I came with some of my friends." Moriarty whistled and two armed men came inside the house "Maybe I should let the others outside, we don't want the place to be too crowded, do we?" He took a step inside the hall and put his hands in his pants pockets "Now where is your Big Brother? Mycroft, where are you?"

Mycroft went out of the study followed by Anthea and a man aiming at them.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock called and his brother gave him a nod, he was all right, they were all right.

"My dear Mycroft what a beautiful mansion you have here, glad you invited me." The mad man smiled widely. "How nice to be all together! Since I am polite I brought you a gift." He turned and watched as one of his men came in pulling a tied up man in his path, Lestrade.

"Geoffrey, are you all right?" John was relieved but tried not to show it too much.

"Yeah..." The DI said in a weak voice. He really looked like shit, his shirt was out of his pants and crumpled, he had a hole in the front of his jacket and his face was bruised.

"How did you manage to make so many of my men work for you and where is the contingent that was supposed to arrive tonight?" Mycroft asked coldly.

"_That_ is a really funny story, I'm sure you want to hear it, but let's settle ourselves in a more comfortable venue. Study everyone?"

They all went to the large study saluted and welcomed by another burst of red dots. How many were they outside? Enough to kill them all with one shot, that was the only certitude they had.

"Oh, look at this mantelpiece, magnificent! You Holmeses have really good tastes in decoration." He jumped in front of the mirror laughing like a child. "If I had such a huge mirror I'd spend all my days watching myself, jumping and making faces." He made faces. That man was absolutely insane. He turned around facing his 'guests' his facial expression serious, his eyes icy. "The contingent has been...delayed, I'm afraid they won't make it to the mansion tonight. I've taken the liberty to replace them with some of my men. The guards that where supposed to leave tonight have been...well...eradicated. Hope they weren't friends of yours."

"You bastard!" John hissed.

"They should have recognised us as the bad guys. Bad soldiers!" Moriarty pouted.

"Will you tell us what this is all about?" Sherlock said darkly.

"Oh come on Sherlock, this is all about you of course!" The mad man said happily. "I followed you, tracked you down, made you come here because, well because it was fun, and because I want to look you in the eyes when I kill the people you love the most. Or have them killed. Expensive suit." The mad man grinned and noticed de inquiring look on Sherlock's face. "Oh no! I won't kill you, I'll kill them all and leave you there, broken and angry, and give myself an absolutely pissed nemesis! Oh that's good, that's good." Moriarty clapped his hands and jumped again. "So, Sherlock, who dies first?"

... ... ...

_Love me? Hate me? Anyway review (please)_...


	18. Count the red dots

Hello dearies!

**helencolin :** Oh and if you met John tell him...ah...no...hum...nothing...thanks (I wouldn't even dare to say it in your ear).**  
>hardcore-muffin :<strong> Yeah I know, I'm a total bitch but you like me (admit it :p :) :D)**  
>thisisforyou :<strong> I think Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never gave Lestrade a surname (only the initial G.) and I honestly forgot if he had one on the BBC Sherlock. I'm sorry if made a mistake but it was an honest one :) Anyway glad you liked it hope you'll like this one too.**  
>jtyler1005 :<strong> Yes chapter 14 was sexy and chapter 19 might be too so keep on reading (please :p)**  
>Miss Crookshanks :<strong> Oh come on you like me (to prove it I have a room full a cakes in my house! You can't deny anything! :p)

Well, instead of trying to convince you, you like me, maybe I should just let you read the next chapter...(hope you'll like it :p)

**Chapter 18 – Count the red dots**

"_So, Sherlock, who dies first?"_

"Come on, which one is the most expendable? The DI? The iceberg Anthea? Or, more difficult, can you chose between love and family?" The mad man stared silently then burst out laughing a mad, mad, laugh "Come on come on come on..."

"How long have you been planning that?" Sherlock asked in a low voice.

"Trying to gain time, aren't you?" A crocked smiled appeared on his face and Moriarty looked more and more insane "I'd say four years. But, as you know, I've been on the consulting business longer than that. I wouldn't have done anything to you if you hadn't help to dismantle some of my clients' organisations."

"Linda, Harrison, how many more?"

"I have many followers, Sherlock. I'm a star and I shine brighter than you." The mad man put his hands back in his pockets "So which one will die first?" He stared at Sherlock's face his cold eyes locking with the detective's. Silence fell on the room for a minute or two. "I'm not a patient man, Sherlock. Keep me waiting and I'll chose for you."

Sherlock gave a look to all of them alternatively. The red dots were moving on their chests up and down. His heart missed a beat when he saw John's face. The man looked calm but he knew he was boiling on the inside he wanted to throw himself in his lover's arms and prevent anything to happen to him, escape, fly, but that was just impossible and he needed to be rational again.

The three guards were aiming at them, their eyes cold, their faces expressionless.

"Who, Sherlock? Who do you want to die first?"

Sherlock kept silent.

"All right!" Moriarty took a step in John's direction.

"Anthea!" Sherlock said in a deep and cold voice. The detective took a peak of his brother's face and saw him clench his teeth. From the corner of his eye he saw John open his mouth in disbelief.

"See, that was easy." Jim grabbed Anthea's right arm and pulled her roughly to him "My dear, seems like Sherlock doesn't like you. What have you done for him to dislike you like that?"

"Fuck you Moriarty!" The brown woman spat and the insane man slapped her on the face so hard her knees flinched. If it wasn't for Moriarty's grip on her arm she would have fallen on the floor. Mycroft's hands turned into fists.

"Watch your mouth young lady!" The insane man shouted his face distorted with anger. He pulled the woman to his chest and grinned. "I can't hold this against you my dear, those two have a very bad influence on you. What about I don't kill you and take you with me, I'm sure you and I could go along very well." He said his face really close to Anthea's.

"What about you kill me now, I just can't stand hearing you talking nonsense any more." The amazon answered coldly and Moriarty roared with laughter.

"That's sad you're not Sherlock's sweetheart because you, me, this beautiful chimney and this soft carpet, right in front of him it could have been fun." The mad man closed his eyes and smell Anthea's hair, breathing deeply. The woman looked at the red dot moving on Mycroft's chest then blinked several times. The older Holmes gave his brother a sharp look and Sherlock nodded imperceptibly. He discretely reached for John's hand and entwined their fingers. The doctor looked puzzled but didn't say a word. He squeezed Sherlock's hand lightly. Then the red dots moved slowly from their chests to the three soldiers heads.

"Jim!" Sherlock said and the mad man opened his eyes, he immediately noticed the change of target and twisted Anthea's arm behind her back and his other hand, in which a long knife appeared, at her throat. Seems like the man was always prepared for this kind of dramatic turn of events.

"How?" He hissed.

"You shine too much, you dazzle yourself, Jim." Sherlock said coldly "The car accident? You wanted to freak us out, Linda observed us all the time. The fake bomb? You knew my brother would take us here, you observed him for a long time. He's usually not that predictable but this time he obviously made a mistake. He took us here. The mansion you infiltrated more than a year ago and constantly kept under surveillance. The text message? Just a game of yours and your first mistake, it let us know you were ready to move. You wanted us to panic, you just led us in the right direction. Harrison? You wanted us to move the men from the mansion, replace them, that was too obvious for not to be a trap. We changed our plans, we let you stop the first contingent while two mores were coming from another roads. As you can see we have channels of communication you're not aware of. They watched your men took place around and inside the mansion and for each of yours there are two of ours. Count the dot if you don't believe me."

The mad man counted the dots and twisted a little more Anthea's arm. The woman moaned in pain.

The three guards looked at each other. Conscious the situation was going out of control they started to fear the consequences.

"Put this knife down, Jim, you can't escape, hurting people won't change that fact." Sherlock said soothingly (at least he tried).

"I'm trapped, am I not?" Moriarty seemed lost like a child in a forest and for a second everybody thought he was going to drop his weapon on the floor but he suddenly looked up, a crooked smile on his lips and a touch of madness in his eyes. "If I'm fucked, why shouldn't I do this." He pushed the blade on Anthea's throat cutting the skin a little and blood run along her neck. It was only a scratch but the brown woman's eyes shown fear. Mycroft to a step closer to the mad man.

"Don't!" Jim screamed burrowing his face on Anthea's hair sniffing noisily. "Did I miss something? Seems like, if Sherlock isn't fond of you, Mycroft is." He took a peak of Anthea's face. She was watching her boss with a mix of fear and, what was it, apology? Moriarty frowned. "You knew. You knew this could happen and you volunteered. This is not a question of liking you or not. You volunteered to be the first, if it ever came to the hostage point. You volunteered to give time for the others. Congratulation Sherlock, you made it look real." Moriarty was moving away from the windows, close to the marble mantelpiece and the dots disappeared from his back.

Since their boss seemed to slowly slide into madness and was alone against an army, the guards surrendered. Lestrade took their guns and they sat on the floor, hands behind their heads.

"Come on Jim, it's over." Sherlock said.

Mycroft, eyes still locked with his lover's, tried to move closer but Moriarty shifted a little to face him.

"What would you give me to have her back?" Jim said to the older Holmes in a strange soft voice.

"Nothing." Mycroft hissed

"I could cut her throat up and you would never have the chance to tell her you love her. Or maybe I'm wrong, maybe you don't love her." He cut the white skin of Anthea's neck another time drawing blood again. The woman muffled a scream but tears appeared in her eyes.

"She knows I do."

The woman clenched her teeth and breathe deep then without warning she smashed Moriarty's ribs with her right elbow and the man shouted and loosen his grip on her. She took advantage of the element of surprise and pushed the man on the marble mantelpiece. Jim bumped his head, the knife fall on the floor and the mad man moaned in pain. Anthea freed herself and walked backward to the others. Mycroft threw himself on Moriarty. He grabbed his waist with one arm and put the other around his neck. A perfect position to have leverage to broke the mad man's spine.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted as he saw the fury on his brother's face "Don't!"

Mycroft hesitated a moment and Jim made a futile attempt to escape since Mycroft was half a feet taller, at least 20 pounds heavier and knew exactly what he was doing.

"You are right little brother, I shouldn't get my hands dirty." He released Moriaty and pushed him close to the window. Dots appeared on the man's body. Suddenly glass shattered everywhere and Moriarty fell on the floor shouting.

"Don't worry, They shot the legs." Mycroft said coldly. He took a step closer to Anthea "Are you all right my dear?" He asked opening his arms for her. The brown woman nodded and threw herself on her lover's arms.

John gave Sherlock a strange look and let go of his hand before crossing the room to check on Moriarty. The snipers had shot him on the thighs, it must hurt like hell but his life wasn't in danger. He tore the man's shirt and used it as band aid.

"John?" Sherlock whispered close to him "Will he be all right?"

"He'll live." The doctor said coldly.

"Will you be all right?"

John stood up and saw the anguish on his lover's face.

"I'm mad at you Sherlock but right now I want you to hold me close." The detective closed the distance between them and took the doctor in a warm embrace kissing him feverishly.

Lestrade opened his eyes wide. Everything was so surrealist. He was in a room covered in broken glass, aiming at three ex soldiers. The man who kept him as an hostage for several days was laying on the floor on a pool of his own blood and the thing that amazed him the most was the two couples kissing as if they were alone.

He could ear the soldiers, the good ones, crossing the garden, soon they would be here and clean all this mess.

… … …

_You really thought I was going to kill someone. Who do you think I am?  
>Next chapter drama and maybe more sexy times – not sure yet – (Yes I am still a teasing bitch)<em>


	19. Tell him

Hello dear readers and reviewers!

**Miss Crookshanks :** I live in an igloo (well, that's a lie). Still want to punch me? (this question has nothing to do with the igloo)**  
>hardcore-muffins :<strong> Oh thank you! So sexy time just for you (and all my beloved readers :))**  
>helenecolin :<strong> alors comme on dit chez nous " fais péter l'url" (oui bon j'avoue je dis pas ça souvent hein :))**  
>Steeviegirl88 :<strong> Thank you! Hope you'll like this chapter too :)**  
>thisisforyou :<strong> You're doubting my honesty, that's not kind of you :) Thank you for your review, a little more Mycrof/Anthea in this chapter (but don't worry more Sherlock/john). Hope you'll like it :)

**Chapter 19 – Tell him**

Mycroft was giving the last orders to his men, Moriarty had been moved to the same place as Harrison, which meant somewhere with no windows, safe and under at least 10 tons of concrete. The three soldiers who surrendered had been treated nicely, well, nicer than the others and John had cleaned and bandaged Anthea's cuts which, fortunately, weren't that deep.

Sherlock was patiently waiting the doctor to accept to face him and talk to him but the man kept on escaping his gaze and his touch.

"I'm glad you're all right." John was talking to Lestrade.

"Well, Moriarty kept me in a basement, I couldn't tell you where but he treated me...well. At least he didn't beat me to a pulp or make me starve." The man smiled.

Sherlock slid silently behind his lover and put his hand on his shoulder.

"John can I talk to you please?"

"Not now, Sherlock." The blond haired man hissed. Lestrade frowned.

"Please, John."

"I have something to say to your brother, Sherlock, I should, well, go and tell him now. Excuse me." Lestrade went away leaving the two men alone.

"John..."

"Listen. I'm fed up with that. Having this conversation with you. Again. You kept me in the dark. Again. After tonight's events I'm, well, I'm lost. Sherlock I love you. So much that if I'd listen myself right now I'd bury my face in your chest and ask you to take me up to your room. But I can't do that because I'd lost what I am and who I am. I've always been my own master. Now I'm not sure of anything."

"John I..."

"Don't." The doctor went out of the study and climbed the stairs slowly. He felt heavy and sad and lost. He came in the bedroom, searched and found his bag and started packing his clothes.

He heard the door open and turned to see Anthea walking in the room.

"Which one of the Holmes brother is sending you?" He said stuffing his bag with one of his jumpers.

"Nor the one nor the other. I come in my name for I'm still a person you know." The brown woman said softly.

"You're right I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk to you like that. I'm being unfair, sorry again."

"It's all right." The woman crossed the room and stopped at the bed's end "He wanted to tell you."

John laughed bitterly. "When we discovered what Moriarty was planning we talked about what we should and shouldn't do. Sherlock argued with Mycroft about letting you in the dark, he wanted you to be able to make your own choices but Mycroft...He was scared you might become too emotional."

"Well, that's not his style, is it." John threw another jumper in the bag and zipped it close.

"So I volunteered to be the first...hostage or anything it would be. I'm not the romantic kind. And I'm not a heroin either. But I knew that Sherlock wouldn't accept any of our plans if he thought you could be in first line."

John turned to her and watched her face intently.

"He loves you."

"And me him."

"Go down and tell him."

John smiled "Maybe you should do the same." He run out of the room and down the stairs.

… … …

Anthea's hand was on her doorknob when she heard a voice on her back.

"I was searching for you." Mycroft said his voice calm.

"And here I am." Anthea sighed turning around to face her lover.

"Where were you going?"

"Well, obviously, in my room."

"I was thinking," he took her hand "but I need to be sure you'd agree with that," he looked uncertain and Anthea frowned "because I don't want you to believe I want to deprive you of your freedom or anything..."

Oh my! Mycroft was beating around the bush.

"Mycroft, what is this all about?"

"I want you to stay with me, in my room, all night, sleep in your arms, wake up next to you."

Anthea stayed silent for a long minute eyes locked with her lover's.

"I've been told a few minutes ago that I should do something. I agree, I think it's time to put it in words." She cupped Mycroft's cheeks and pulled his face down "I love you." She stole his lips as he rolled his arms around her waist.

"I'll never let you volunteer to be a target any more, ever!" He held the amazon close.

"Tell me what I already know." She said on his lips.

"I love you." Mycroft whispered.

He dragged her to his room and closed the door.

… … …

Sherlock was sitting on a white couch face in his hands and, god, he was sobbing silently. John knelt in front of him and put his hand on his knee. Sherlock removed his hands from his face, his eyes red and puffy opened wide.

"John, please, listen to me, I..."

"Anthea already told me everything." John put his hand behind Sherlock's neck and pulled him down to give him a soft kiss. The detective slid on the floor and surrounded his lover's waist with his long bony legs.

"John..." Sherlock whispered on his lover's lips

"It's all right..."

"No, please, I want to say it. As far as I want you to be mine and willing to follow me for ever, I want you to believe, for it's true, that I'll never ask you to be anything else that what you are and want to be. I don't want to change you or control you. I really need you to believe me."

"I do."

"I'm really sorry."

"I know." The doctor cupped his lover's check "And I love you." He let his hand go down his lover's neck and chest then turned around his waist and grabbed his arse. He pulled the detective on his lap and kissed him hungrily using his tongue and teeth.

Sherlock moved his hips rubbing their crotches together.

"I love you more." He whispered in his man's ear. Suddenly he was lying on the floor, John between his thighs.

"No you don't." The doctor nibbled his lover's earlobe while moving his hips suggestively and the detective moaned.

"Well that need to be proved..." The detective teased.

John tangled his hand on Sherlock's curls and locked eyes with him.

"Fuck me."

The detective opened his mouth, he wanted to ask his love if he was sure, if he heard well, wanted to know why he asked that now, wanted to be sure it wasn't because they argued but none of these words came out of his mouth because John's eyes answered all his questions. They were burning with desire and determination.

"Let's go upstairs." The brown haired man growled.

They almost fell and fucked on the stairs but they remembered the presence in the building of a whole contingent of soldiers, a DI and, well, Mycroft and his amazon who must be occupied with their own business. Anyway they finally reached the bedroom and the bed. John ripped Sherlock's shirt off and began marking the ghostly white chest with his teeth and Sherlock fumbled with John's belt. John tugged forcibly Sherlock's pants and shorts then took his length in his mouth sucking and licking greedily. The detective arched his back and growled. Obscene noises came out of John's mouth as he sucked messily his lover's cock. Then, when he felt his lover's wouldn't stand the pressure much longer he let go of his erection and bent over him.

"Fuck me now!" He ordered.

Sherlock pushed his lover until he laid on the bed and rolled him on his belly.

"As far as I'd love to do this hard and rough, I think we will have to start soft and slow. I wouldn't forgive myself if I'd hurt you." He put his hands on John's waist "Kneel on the bed my love." John did as he was told and Sherlock ran his fingers along his lover's arse then between his thighs pulling them softly to make him understand he wanted him to part his legs. The detective kissed the doctor's arse then licked it's crack until he reached the place he needed to stretch. He licked and licked again then pushed his tongue inside. John held his breath and grabbed the sheets.

"Are you all right my love?"

"Oh god, yes! Please don't stop!"

Sherlock leant over and opened the top drawer of the bedside table where he found the lube bottle. He put some on his fingers and inserted a first phalanx inside his lover moving carefully then he pushed a little more and more until John's body swallowed his entire middle finger then he slowly pulled it out. Sherlock was amazed by the doctor's control over his body and promptly added a second finger.

"Is it okay?" Sherlock moved his hand faster.

"More than okay!" The blond haired man panted.

After several minutes, Sherlock removed his finger as John sighed and moaned, and positioned himself right behind his lover. He put lube on his cock and pushed himself inside his man sliding slowly. He felt John's tightness around him and grabbed his lover's waist digging his nails in the soft skin.

"John..."

"Oh my..." John was about to tear the sheets.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Oh Fuck, Sherlock, move!" Sherlock slid in and out slowly at first then faster and faster and John let out a cry as his erected cock twitched "Oh fuck..." Sherlock hit the same spot again and again with the same response. He circled his lover's sex with his hand and mimicked his hips rhythm with it, drawing another cry from John's throat.

The doctor was panting and asking for more then nothing of that since he was screaming Sherlock's name and coming all over the sheets. His orgasm made his body contract around Sherlock's cock which made the detective follow in bliss. He fell on John's back, breathless.

"Oh John...I love you...I love you so much..." He panted his mouth on the blond haired man's clavicle.

Sherlock carefully pulled out of his body and John moved to lie on his belly again He rest himself along his man's side. John looked at him and gave a sated smile.

"I love you more." He whispered.

… … …

_Maybe a last chapter or an epilogue after that, not sure right now._

_Please Review!_


	20. Epilogue

Hello dear readers and reviewers!

**helenecolin : **Je n'y manquerais pas :)**  
>hardcore-muffins : <strong>You thought I forgot? **O_O** Of course not! I'll love having you following my next stories, thank you!**  
>Thisisforyou : <strong>Well maybe :) (You are giving me ideas here...for a story of course) Glad you liked it! Hope to read you soon.**  
>Steviegirl88 : <strong>Here comes the epilogue of the story!**  
>PrettyLittleScars : <strong>Oh thank you! *^^* I hope You'll like my other stories as well

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>_  
>A month later<em>

"Oh god that feels good!" John said moving his left hand and wrist.

"Maybe, but be careful, my love and never break it again." Sherlock put his hands on John's waist and pulled him close "I want you to use both your hands on me."

"What would you like me to do with my two hands?" John whispered before licking his lover's lower lip.

"Oh, so many things..." He pushed John until his back bumped the wall and nipped the skin of his neck "I have a really long list in mind, enough to occupy many, many days and nights." He licked his man's jawline and the doctor pushed his hands in the brown haired man's curls.

"Oh, my boys, you're never tired are you?" Mrs Hudson entered the room a wooden box in her hands.

"Mrs Hudson, you never knock do you?" Sherlock smiled before giving his lover a quick kiss and, reluctantly, taking a step back from his man's warm body.

"I'm enjoying surprising you too much to knock, dear." She grinned widely.

"That I can see, and what's this?"

"A parcel, for John."

"For me?" John frowned.

"It comes with a card." John took the white card and opened it

.

_Since you can use your left arm again, a little gift for you (both)._

_MH&A_

_.  
><em>

"It comes from your brother and Anthea." John said taking the wooden box and opening it, curious.

He opened it and laughed closing it before anyone else could see what was inside.

"Thank you Mrs Hudson, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do." He said putting a hand on the woman's shoulder and leading her to the door.

"All right, all right." She said as she went out of the room and Sherlock closed the door. Then he turned to his lover a quizzing look on his face.

John opened the wooden box again, there on a blue silk cushion was a pair of purple furry handcuffs.

"I never thought I'd say that but, Mycroft is a genius!" Sherlock said taking the purple object out of the box. He grabbed his lover's waist and pulled him to his chest once more. "Come on love, let's try your gift." He whispered on his man's lips.

"With pleasure!"

… … …

In spite of Sherlock numerous questions on the subject, Mycroft never told him where Moriarty was or if he even was alive.

The older Holmes surveillance never stopped.

Many followers.

Too many.

* * *

><p><em>All right, now it's the end. But everything is all right since I have another story in mind and <strong>Swimming in blood<strong> to continue.  
>Hope you enjoyed that story as much as I enjoyed writing it.<br>Thank you all for reading and reviewing and see you soon (soon!)_


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